


Silver Eyes: The Divine Whispers

by Dan_Francisco



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Rewrite, Drama, Eventual Blake Belladonna/Ruby Rose, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fixing the mess Miles and Kerry created, Found Family, Gen, I do not apologize for the stupid references I put in, I pull no punches, Team Dynamics, sci fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-02-07 05:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 157,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21452587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_Francisco/pseuds/Dan_Francisco
Summary: Ruby Rose has always been told growing up that she was special, and she was – certainly, she was the only girl with silver eyes that she had ever met. But silver eyes and skills with a war scythe were not the only things marking her as distinct from the world. After thwarting an attempted robbery, Ruby is offered the chance to enter the premier combat school, Beacon Academy, and embark on an adventure to become what she has always dreamed of – a Huntress. With her sister, new friends and her familiar weapon, Crescent Rose, Ruby finds that going to Beacon is just the beginning.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc/Ruby Rose
Comments: 87
Kudos: 89





	1. Ruby Rose

To Ruby Rose, 16-year old scythe-wielding extraordinaire, there seemed to be no limit to the world. Her studies at Signal Academy, a primer school for aspiring Hunters and Huntresses, were going well. Life in Vale was as beautiful as it had ever been. And on a night like tonight, when the sky was full of stars that shined as brightly as her own silver eyes, nothing seemed impossible. This dream, these aspirations to greatness, were the primary reasons she was heading to a Dust shop late at night. After all, any aspirant Huntress needs ammunition, stocks of the volatile mineral to experiment and fight Grimm and miscreants alike.

However, this would be the night that changed Ruby Rose’s life forever. She was busy browsing the latest magazines, periodicals that detailed the newest and finest in weapons technology. Ruby couldn’t help but wonder what in these magazines and journals she could apply to her own personal weapon, Crescent Rose. The tech behind Crescent Rose was advanced, but there was _always_ something better, a new way to boost power and get more out of it to fit with her combat style.

She had become so lost in the articles and drawings and pictures that she scarcely noticed what was going on behind her. Somebody tapped her on the shoulder, a man in a black suit with a red tie and sunglasses, motioning for her to take her headphones off. When she had, the sound of her music fading away, he scowled at her.

“Come on, kid,” he said. “Hand over all the Dust you’ve got.”

Ruby blinked. Why did he want her Dust? She looked around, spotting more of them by the counter and filling bags with the explosive compound. Another one in a white coat twirled a cane of some sort around as if it were a baton. “What if I don’t want to?” Ruby asked.

In response, the man pulled out a gun. “Then I take it from you anyway,” he growled.

She frowned, putting the magazine away. He was trying to _mug_ her! What sort of arrogance did he have? In a flash, Ruby had prepared Crescent Rose, dodging out of the way of his wide swing to get the gun aligned. She fired a single shot out of Crescent Rose, sending the man flying out of the store’s window. At this, the others immediately took notice and decided to bolt. Ruby began to pursue, pausing to look at the shopkeeper as she passed. “Uh,” she said hesitantly. “Do you mind if I go after them?”

He stared at her, gesturing to go out the door. “Please do!”

Nodding, Ruby headed out the door onto the lonely street. The lights showed a lot of potential paths, but Ruby was more interested in the airship that was hovering overhead. They were heading for it – must have been their escape vehicle. She broke into a sprint, unfolding Crescent Rose and firing it to propel herself across rooftops, easily closing the distance between the shop and the airship. The man in white turned around, and even from where she was, she could hear him sighing. He took out a single, green-colored piece of Dust, lobbing it at her. Why would he do that? Unless…

She saw seconds later that he had raised his cane. Rifle element, maybe? Had to be, to be this accurate at range. An explosion consumed the rooftop she was just on, but curiously the orange glow of the fire didn’t reach her. Somebody else had joined in, shielding the both of them from the Dust explosion.

“Who are you?” Ruby asked the newcomer.

“No time!” the woman said, her blonde hair bouncing around as she engaged with the thieves at range. She could just barely make out someone in what looked like a red dress inside the airship, lobbing fireballs at them. Ruby could do little more than stare in awe. As quickly as each fireball approached, the mysterious woman deflected them and fired back with globs of purple energy, which were just as easily defeated by their unseen opponent. Just as quickly as the fight began, it ended with the airship flying off, nobody worse for wear.

The woman sighed, placing her wand on a magnetic strip on her waist. She dusted herself off as she turned to Ruby, a cross look on her face. “First of all, my name is Glynda Goodwytch.”

“Nice to meet you!” Ruby said, extending her hand out.

_“Second of all,”_ she said, ignoring Ruby’s handshake offer. “You and I are going to have a little _chat.”_

Ruby gulped. That was never a good sign.

* * *

Ruby had been put in an interrogation room of some kind, with simple metal chairs and a similar table flanked by mere concrete walls. A single light hung from the ceiling, and for the most part she had been left alone. Glynda Goodwitch refused to answer any questions Ruby had, only telling her that they were waiting for “him” to arrive. Who “he” was, Ruby didn’t know. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and a man in black pants, a black jacket, with a green scarf around his neck and small round glasses walked in. He looked stern, or at least he did until he saw Ruby, smiling as he looked at her.

“Hello there,” the man said.

“Uh, hi,” Ruby replied.

He set down a plate, piled high with cookies. Well, she _was_ awful hungry, and they looked like chocolate chip, her favorite. She gingerly took one, unsure whether this was some sort of test or not, but the man across from her looked like he had expected it the entire time.

“Ruby… Rose, is it?” he said. “You have silver eyes.”

“Uh… yes?” Ruby said, swallowing a bite of her cookie.

He picked up a tablet, and through the transparent screen, Ruby could see video of herself, fighting the people in the shop. “So where did you learn to do this?” he asked, gesturing to the video.

“S-Signal Academy.”

He arched his eyebrow, tilting his head at her. “They taught you to use one of the most dangerous weapons ever designed?”

“Well… _one_ teacher. My uncle Qrow.”

“I see,” the man said.

“I was complete _garbage_ before he took me under his wing! But now I’m all like, hoowah! Witchaa!”

The man nodded, smiling as he put a cup with a steaming hot liquid on the table. “So what is an adorable girl like yourself doing at a school designed to train warriors?”

“Well… I want to be a Huntress,” Ruby said, shrugged. Wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t that why _anyone_ went to the schools and academies?

“You want to slay monsters?”

Ruby’s eyes lit up, and she began to grin widely. “Yeah! I’ve only got two years at Signal left, and then I’ll apply to Beacon! My sister’s starting there _this _year, and she’s trying to become a Huntress, and I’m trying to be a Huntress ‘cause I wanna help people. My parents always taught us to help others so I thought I may as well make a career out of it!”

Glynda and the man looked at her, each one studying her intensely. “Do you know who I am?” the man said.

“Um, I don’t think so, no.”

He smiled again, taking a sip of his piping hot drink. “I’m Ozpin. You may know me as the Headmaster at Beacon Academy. You would like to come to my school?”

“More than anything!” Ruby squealed, her eyes wide in pure awe.

Ozpin nodded, looking over to Glynda who scoffed. “Well, okay.”

* * *

The airship taking Ruby and countless other people to Beacon Academy was probably the most advanced one of its kind she had ever seen. The rolling valleys, wide forests, and bountiful fields passed by them almost faster than she could register it, with the murmur of the people behind her ever-present. She couldn’t help but look around her at all the new faces. Dozens, of not a hundred or more people, all training to be Hunters and Huntresses.

As she watched the scenery go past, Ruby suddenly found herself tackled to the ground. She looked around to see her sister, Yang, had enveloped her in a massive hug and was currently pinning her down and refusing to let go.

“I can’t _believe_ my baby sister is coming to Beacon with me!” Yang yelled, squeezing her even tighter. “This is the best day ever!”

Ruby gasped for breath, trying to escape her sister’s grasp. “Please stop,” she eked out.

“But I’m so proud of you!” Yang said, though she did relent and allow Ruby to get back up and dust herself off.

She shrugged, trying to downplay how nervous she actually was now that she was on her way here. When the airship was picking them up, it wasn’t that bad, but now, halfway to Beacon, the reality of it was hitting her. “Really though, it was nothing, Yang.”

“What do you _mean?”_ she asked, a skeptical look crossing her face. “Dude, everyone at Beacon is going to think you’re awesome.”

“I don’t want people to think I’m awesome! Well… not before they’ve _met_ me.”

Yang frowned, suddenly becoming very concerned. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I am!” Ruby said. “I just… I guess it’s really setting in, you know? I got moved ahead _two years,_ you guys are all older than me and more experienced and… I don’t know, I don’t want anyone to think I’m special or anything.”

Yang smiled, wrapping her arm around Ruby’s shoulder as they looked out among the landscape. “Come on. Don’t you remember what Dad always said? You _are_ special.”

Their conversation was cut short as a special news bulletin began to play on the train’s window. Ruby didn’t much pay attention to it, since it only covered the robbery last night that she had helped to thwart. The newscast didn’t make mention of her helping, but it did tell her the suspected leader of the robbery, somebody named Roman Torchwick, and telling people if they knew anything about his whereabouts, to contact the police. Before long, this segment ended as it began to talk about a Faunus civil rights protest.

She remembered learning about the Faunus in school. Some of her friends at Signal were Faunus, come to think of it, and her weapons technology teacher with also a Faunus. The news said that members of the White Fang – a terrorist organization that used extreme measures in their fight for Faunus rights – had disrupted the protest and police had been deployed. Soon, even that got interrupted as a hologram of Glynda Goodwitch replaced it.

“Hello,” the hologram said. “And welcome to Beacon.”

“Who’s that?” Yang asked.

“You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Hunters and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and training you will need to protect our world.”

The hologram faded as people began to speculate on their future, what they’d learn, and make friends. Ruby smiled, finding comfort in Glynda’s words somehow. “Oh wow,” she said, looking out the window. “Look! You can see Signal from up here! I guess home isn’t too far after all!”

Yang put her hand on Ruby’s shoulder, looking at her with a determined look in her eye. “Beacon’s our home now.”

* * *

Landing on Beacon’s campus, Ruby and Yang both stood in awe at the sight in front of them. The school itself had massive spires dotting the building, a giant tower standing tall with multiple lights at the center of the entire complex. Decorative arches circled the courtyard like defensive walls of old, and ornate streetlamps lined the main path to Beacon’s halls.

“Wow…” Ruby muttered. Next to her, she could hear Yang uttering something similar.

“The view from Vale’s got _nothing_ on this,” Yang said, drawing her arms wide as if she were throwing open the curtains.

However, far more important to Ruby than the campus itself, was the weaponry on display. _“Ohmygosh,_ sis! Look! That kid’s got a collapsible staff! And she’s got a fire sword!”

Yang laughed, shaking her head. “Calm down, Ruby. They’re just weapons.”

Ruby whipped her head around, staring at Yang as if she had just kicked the family dog. “_Just_ weapons? They’re an extension of ourselves! They’re a part of us! They’re… so cool!”

“Well, why can’t you swoon over your own weapon? Aren’t you happy with it?”

Who _wouldn’t_ be happy with Crescent Rose? Ruby remembered the first time she had figured out how to actually keep hold of it when firing, and when Uncle Qrow had taught her how to use its massive recoil to help her in combat. “Of course I am!” she said. “I just really like seeing new ones. It’s like meeting new people, but better!”

“Ruby, you _really_ ought to like, make some friends. For real.”

She stared back at Yang, confused. “But why would I need friends if I have you?”

“_Well…_” Yang said sheepishly. “Actually, my friends are here, so I gotta go catch up with them! See ya around!”

In a flash, Yang had sprinted away, accidentally knocking Ruby over and causing her to stumble about. What did she _mean_ she had to catch up? Where was Ruby supposed to go? Weren’t they supposed to get dorm assignments – actually, did they even _have_ dorms? Ruby didn’t know what she was doing. Doubly so when she found herself flat on her back, on a luggage cart and covered in suitcases.

Thankfully, somebody saw fit to remove the luggage from her body, and Ruby was suddenly face-to-face with someone standing over her. She stared at Ruby, her blue eyes squinted at her and only scarcely covered by long white hair in a ponytail. “_What_ are you doing?” she demanded.

“Huh?” Ruby asked. _Wait, right._ Ruby did her best to get up quickly. “Oh, sorry!”

“_Sorry?_” the girl said. “Do you have _any_ idea what sort of damage you could have caused?”

“Uh…” Ruby muttered.

“Give me that!” she yelled, snatching away a case that Ruby wasn’t even aware she was holding. In a flash, the girl had opened it to reveal rows upon rows of Dust, twinkling in the light. “This is Dust – mined and purified from the Schnee quarry!”

“Oh, uh….”

“What, are you brain-dead?!” the girl demanded. She pulled out a red-colored vial, holding it practically right in front of Ruby’s face. Bits of Dust smoke were wafting into her nose, and she could feel it start to tickle. “**Dust!** Fire, water, lightning, energy!”

“Are you even listening to me?! Is any of this sinking in? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Ruby tried to say something, she really did. The only problem was that there was so much Dust smoke in her nose that she couldn’t help but sneeze, which in turn caused Weiss to drop the vial of Dust, which in itself caused an explosion.

“_Unbelievable!”_ the girl yelled. “This is _precisely_ the kind of thing I was talking about!”

“I’m sorry! Really!”

The girl balled her fists, slamming her eyes shut as her face twisted around. Ruby had _really_ done it now. “Ugh, you complete _dolt!_ What are you even _doing_ here?!”

“Well, I-”

“This isn’t your ordinary combat school!” she lectured. “It’s not _just_ sparring and practice, you know! We’re here to fight _monsters,_ so… watch where you’re going!”

What was her deal, anyway? Ruby had already apologized, and it wasn’t like she was ignorant to what Beacon was for. So why was she all up in arms about this? After all, this girl had been the one to shove the Dust right in front of her nose. “I _said_ I was sorry, princess!”

“It’s _heiress,_ actually,” a third voice said. Both Ruby and the girl turned to look at a third girl, this one with jet-black hair and golden eyes, a neutral look on her face as she handed over a larger bottle of Dust to the white-haired girl. “I’m surprised you don’t know this is Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, one of the largest producers of energy propellant in the world.”

Weiss smiled smugly. “_Finally,_ some recognition!”

“The same company infamous for its controversial labor forces and questionable business partners.”

In an instant, Weiss’s smug smile transformed into barely-concealed indignation. “Wha- How dare – the nerve of! _Ugh!”_ Weiss began to storm off, muttering to herself incoherently.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you!” Ruby called after her, but she wasn’t sure if Weiss ever heard. Okay, well, that could be solved later. “So, what’s-” Just like Weiss, the black-haired girl had begun walking away, though she was far less upset than she imagined Weiss was. Dejected, Ruby felt her shoulders drop. “Welcome to Beacon…”

Just as Ruby had lost all hope for a good start to her first year at Beacon, somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to see a boy with blond hair, smiling at her. “Hey,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Jaune. Jaune Arc.”

She smiled back, gladly accepting the handshake. “Hi! I’m Ruby.”

* * *

“So, where are you from?” Ruby asked. She and Jaune had been wandering around campus for the better part of their conversation, mostly just going where the path took them. It seemed like the day was wide open, and so far nobody else had found them and told them to meet up somewhere, and so exploring the campus seemed like the best option right now.

“Oh, I’m from Mistral,” he said. “Uh, not the city, but… way in the north. It’s near Wind Path.”

“Cool! I’m from Patch!”

Jaune nodded, clearly not having heard of the town before. She wasn’t surprised – Patch was a pretty small place compared to other towns in Vale. “So, uh, before you ask, yeah, I am from the Arc family of Huntsmen. I… I like to think I’m going to do well.”

“You are?” Ruby asked. She remembered learning about a Hunter with the name Arc before. He was a legend during the Great War, renowned for his swordsmanship and courage in face of battle. “Wow… well, uh, I’ve got this!”

With not much family history to draw on, Ruby unfolded Crescent Rose, impaling its blade into the ground.

“Whoa!” Jaune said, jumping back. “Is that a scythe?”

“Yeah! It’s also a customizable high-caliber sniper rifle!”

“Well, I’ve got this sword!”

Ruby felt her eyes widen. This was already shaping up to be good. She began to ooh and awe over the sword, marveling at its craftsmanship.

“And, uh, I’ve got a shield too!” In an instant, Jaune’s sheath transformed into the shield component, raising it above his head as it began to work itself into his forearm armor.

“So, what do they do?” Ruby asked, curious about whether the shield had some sort of barrier that prevented certain Dust elementals from being useful against it.

Jaune took the shield off his arm, retracting it back to its sheath form as he fumbled with it. “Uh… well, the shield gets smaller, so when I get tired of carrying it, I can just… put it… away.”

Ruby blinked. “Wouldn’t it weigh the same?”

“Yeah… it does,” Jaune admitted sheepishly.

“Well, I guess I’m kind of a dork when it comes to weapons,” Ruby said, laughing. “I uh… I might have gone overboard designing mine.”

“Wait,” Jaune said, blinking. “You _built_ that?!”

“Well, yeah. All Signal students make their own weapons. Didn’t you make yours?”

He shrugged. “It’s… more of a hand-me-down,” he said. “My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.”

“Sounds like a family heirloom to me!” Ruby said. “Well, I think it’s cool! Not many people have an appreciation for the classics these days!”

“Yeah,” Jaune said, sheathing his sword. “The classics…”

“Hey, so why’d you say hi to me back there? At the courtyard?”

“Why not?” Jaune replied, shrugging again. “My mom always said strangers are just friends you just haven’t met yet.”

Ruby hummed, nodding. Made sense – somewhat – to her. “So, where are we going?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “I was following you.”


	2. The First Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initiation begins at Beacon.

Ruby and Jaune had managed to make their way to Beacon’s auditorium, filled to the brim with people. The crowd was larger than any Ruby had ever seen before – she didn’t think that Signal had even close to this many people.

“Ruby!” Yang called. She looked over to see Yang waving to her. “Over here! I saved you a spot!”

“Oh! Hey, I-I gotta go!” Ruby said to Jaune, already heading off to her sister. “I’ll see you after the ceremony!” Anything Jaune said was quickly lost in the crowd as she ran over to her sister, slipping her way past people and squeezing through shoulders. As she approached, Yang had a smile on her face, arms crossed.

“So,” she said. “How’s your first day going?”

“You mean since you ditched me and I _exploded?_”

Yang’s smile immediately turned into a frown. “Yikes. Meltdown already?”

“No!” Ruby said, sighing dejectedly. “I _literally_ exploded in front of the school! And there was some fire, and I think some ice…?”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“I wish! I tripped over some crabby girl’s luggage, and then she yelled at me, and then I sneezed, and then I **exploded,** and then she yelled at me again, and I felt _really, really_ bad, and I just wanted her to stop yelling at me!”

“**You!**”

Ruby jumped, practically into Yang’s arms if it were possible, as the anxiety of the afternoon was coming back in full force. “Oh God, it’s happening again!”

“You’re lucky we weren’t blown off the side of the cliff!” Weiss said.

“Oh my God, you really exploded,” Yang said, completely deadpan.

“It was an accident!” Ruby said to Weiss, clasping her hands together as if that’d help her plead her case.

Weiss, however, merely crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed as if she was still fuming about the explosion. “Do you _really_ want to start making things up to me?”

“Yes! Absolutely!”

“Then do me a favor, and don’t speak to me ever again.”

Yang stepped in between them, her arms out as if trying to clear the air between Weiss and Ruby. “Hey, it sounds like you guys got off on the wrong foot. Why not start over and just try to be friends?”

“Yes! Great idea, Yang!” Ruby said, beaming. She cleared her throat, holding out her hand to Weiss. “Hi, Weiss! I’m Ruby! Wanna hang out?”

“Oh, of course!” Weiss said, a broad smile on her face as her eyes became starry. “And we can paint our nails and try on clothes and talk about cute boys!”

_“Really?”_ Ruby asked, thrilled beyond belief. She had actually made a friend! How great!

“**No.**” Weiss said flatly, her enthusiasm gone like the wind.

A bell began to chime, drawing the auditorium’s attention to the stage. Up there, Headmaster Ozpin stood in front of a microphone, with Glynda right next to him. He tapped on the microphone, causing a bit of feedback to echo through the room. Seemingly satisfied, he moved closer to it. “I’ll… keep this brief,” he said. “Welcome to the new Class of Beacon, ladies and gentlemen. You have all come here in search of knowledge, to hone your craft as warriors and acquire new skills. And when you are finished, you seek to dedicate your life to the protection of the people.”

He looked out among them, almost as if he could see the potential within each person standing here. “But I look at this crowd, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose and direction. You have all traveled here under the assumption that knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge cannot lift away the burdens you carry. It is up to you to take the next step.”

Headmaster Ozpin soon left, as the crowd began to whisper to themselves anxiously. Wasted potential? Had he really said that? Did he mean to say that some of them weren’t good enough? Was Ruby one of them? She looked up again to see Glynda step in front of the microphone. “You will gather in the ballroom tonight; tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed.”

Yang blinked, almost as if she wasn’t sure what she had just seen. “He seemed kind of… off.”

“It’s like he wasn’t even there,” Ruby commented.

“Yeah, that was… weird.”

Ruby glanced outside – the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange hue on the sky and the people near the windows. Time to take their things to the ballroom, especially if initiation was tomorrow. It seemed that deciding where to lay down their sleeping bag for the night was mostly dictated by if anyone had friends, which right now, Ruby had none other than Jaune. Even then, Jaune had managed to find a few others he had laid his bag near, leaving Ruby effectively alone once more. As darkness fell, people changed from their clothes of the day to pajamas and sleep wear, still gathering in circles to talk with the new friends they had made.

All except Ruby, of course. She may not have made any new friends, but the old ones back at Signal still wanted to know what was going on, and so she had begun drafting a letter to them, making sure they knew everything that was going on.

Next to her, Yang flopped down on her sleeping bag, having felt sorry for Ruby and deciding to hang near her for the night. “It’s like a big slumber party!” Yang said, smiling wide.

“I… don’t think Dad would approve of all the boys, though.”

“I know _I_ do!” Yang said, but who she was looking at, Ruby wasn’t sure – she needed to use as much light as she had left on the letter. “What’s that?”

“It’s a letter to the gang back at Signal. I promised I’d keep in touch with them.”

“Aw, that’s so _cute!”_ Yang gushed.

“Shut up! I didn’t get to take my friends with me to school! It’s weird not knowing anyone here.”

Yang shrugged, leaning on her pillow. “What about that Jaune guy you were telling me about? That’s one friend, yeah? At _least_ a one hundred percent increase!”

“Pretty sure Weiss counts as a _negative_ friend. Back to zero.”

“No such thing as negative friends!” Yang said. “You just made one friend and an enemy. Look, point is, it’s the first day, dude. I’m sure you’ll settle in fine.”

Ruby sighed, looking up. Maybe Yang was right, and maybe… wait. She could see the same girl that had actually introduced her to Weiss earlier today. She was propped up against a wall, next to her sleeping bag, a book in hand. “That girl…”

Yang looked over, confused. “What, you know her or something?”

“N-no, not really, she saw what happened this afternoon, but she left before I could say anything.”

“Well, now’s your chance!” Before Ruby could even think of protesting, Yang had grabbed her arm and practically dragged her over to the girl, throwing Ruby at her feet almost. “Hello! I believe you two may know each other?”

The girl arched an eyebrow, staring at them. “Aren’t you… the girl that exploded?”

Ruby laughed nervously, picking herself up off the ground. “Uh, yeah, but uh… you can just call me Ruby.”

The girl stared at them for a while longer, before turning back to her book. “Okay.”

“_What do you think you’re doing?”_ Yang whispered harshly in Ruby’s ear.

“I don’t know!” Ruby whispered back. “Help me!”

Rolling her eyes, Yang took a few steps forward of Ruby, clearing her throat. “So… what’s your name?”

The girl sighed, as if she was distracted yet again. “Blake.”

“Well, Blake,” Yang said, undeterred by her one-word responses, “I’m Yang, Ruby’s older sister! I like your bow!”

Blake’s face tightened, but only for a split second. “Thanks.”

“It goes great with your… pajamas!”

“Right…”

Yang laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her head. “Well, uh… nice night, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Blake said, clear irritation in her voice. “It’s lovely. Almost as lovely as this book!”

Ruby blinked, wondering if Blake was going to continue further.

“That I will continue to read,” she said, as silence enveloped the conversation. “As soon as you leave!”

“Yeah,” Yang said, turning to Ruby. “This girl’s a lost cause.”

“What’s it about?” Ruby asked.

“Huh?”

“Your book. Does it have a name?”

Blake blinked, like she wasn’t expecting anyone to actually take an interest in what she was reading. “Uh, well, i-it’s… about a man with two souls, each fighting for control over his body.”

“Oh yeah,” Yang said sarcastically. “That’s _real_ lovely!”

“I love books!” Ruby said, smiling. “Yang used to read to me every night before bed. Stories about heroes and monsters… they’re why I want to be a Huntress!”

“Why?” Blake asked, smirking. “Hoping you’ll live happily ever after?”

Ruby shrugged. “I’m hoping we _all_ will. I wanted to be like those heroes in the books, someone who fought for what was right, and protected people that can’t protect themselves!”

Blake’s eyebrows went up, thinking on this for a moment. “That’s… ambitious for a kid.” She sighed deeply, looking away. “Unfortunately, the real world isn’t the same as a fairy tale.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here!” she said. “To make it better.”

Almost immediately, Yang enveloped her in a hug, squeezing tighter than she ever had before. “I’m _so proud_ of my baby sister! With all her lofty goals and dreams!”

“Cut it out!” Ruby said, struggled against Yang’s arms.

Blake chuckled, shaking her head as she smiled. “Well, Ruby, it was a pleasure to ha-”

“What’s going _on_ over here?!” Weiss demanded, her hands on her hips as she stomped over. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know!”

Ruby looked up at Weiss, and then saw that she and Yang had locked eyes. “Not you again!” they said almost simultaneously. She glanced around, realizing that Weiss was right – there _were_ people trying to sleep, and she figured out far too late that she and Yang may have been a bit _too_ loud.

“Oh no,” she said. “She’s right! People _are_ trying to sleep! We gotta be quiet!”

“Oh, _now_ you’re on my side,” Weiss said, rolling her eyes.

“I was always on your side!”

“Yeah,” Yang said, jumping in to defend her. “What’s your problem with my sister, anyway? She’s only trying to be nice!”

“She’s a hazard to my health!”

Just as it seemed the conversation was going to go off the proverbial cliff, the little corner of the ballroom that they occupied became enshrouded in darkness. “Hey,” Ruby asked. “Who turned out the lights?”

“I did,” Blake said in the darkness. “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

* * *

Tension was in the air as morning arrived. Aspirant Hunters and Huntresses immediately began sizing up their competition and potential teammates, and Ruby could already feel the scrutinizing eyes of a hundred people on her. The day before, seeing all the weapons and accessories people chose to utilize had inspired and fascinated her. But today, seeing warhammers, polearms, swords, shields, rifles, shotguns, and machine pistols just made her anxious. As she walked with Yang to the lockers, where they had stored their weapons and equipment in preparation for today, Ruby did her best to hide her anxiety and turn it into productive energy.

“You seem awful chipper this morning,” Yang commented. Good, it was at least working.

“Yep! No more awkward small talk or ‘getting to know you’ stuff – today, I’m letting Crescent Rose do the talking!”

Yang smiled softly, raising an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, but remember Ruby, you’re not the only one going through initiation. They said the teams might be random this year.”

She blinked, confused. “Okay…”

“Point is, you’re gonna have to meet new people and work with them. You can’t hope to do everything by yourself.”

“Ugh, you sound just like _Dad,_” Ruby groaned, rolling her eyes. “What does meeting new people have to do with fighting anyway?”

“What about when we form teams? I mean, Ruby, it’s four years working with the same people. You really think you can just be a wallflower the entire time?”

Ruby began to stammer, finding the words difficult to come by. “Uh… well, I… figured I would be on… _your_ team.”

Yang blinked, shifting her weight uneasily from side to side as she avoided Ruby’s eyes. “Maybe you could try being on someone else’s team?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be on the same team as me?”

Yang sighed, shaking her head pensively. “No, that’s not what I’m saying, just… look, I won’t always be there to help you. You’ve got to break out of your shell, Ruby, and you can’t do that if I’m there all the time.”

“I don’t need to ‘break out of my shell!’” Ruby yelled. “I don’t even _have_ a shell!”

Taking her gauntlets into her hands, Yang glanced up at Ruby for a split second before going back to making sure Ember Celica’s hold on her wrists was tight, smiling as she got them back on. Ruby began to wonder if Yang had ever been without her weapons this long. “Okay, _ignoring_ the fact you missed my point, Beacon’s supposed to be a fresh start for us. _All_ of us. I know that back at Patch, we were always close, but that was because… well, you know.”

Ruby didn’t need Yang to say anything else. _Because Mom died._ Ruby had never really _known_ Mom, since she passed when she was still really little, but Dad always told Ruby stories about her. His stories talked about how fearless Mom had been, that she had been the best thing to happen in his life. Ruby never knew what had happened to her, since Dad always got quiet when the topic of Mom’s last “mission” came up.

All Ruby really had to remember her by were pictures, fractured memories, and Mom’s gravestone on the cliffs near Patch, the same one she had visited and said goodbye to just before heading to Beacon. It was always bittersweet, she thought, knowing that somewhere out there Mom could be watching, but at the same time, she could only ever relay news and life events to a piece of stone.

She had never known for sure, but she thought it wasn’t the same as talking to her. Yang would probably know better, since she actually remembered Mom, but like Dad, she preferred to focus on the good. Maybe it was for the better. Dad always said Ruby had “her mother’s” eyes, and that seemed to be the case every time she looked at the old pictures. She’d never seen anyone else with silver eyes, anyway.

“Yeah, so… uh, anyway,” Yang said nervously, knocking Ruby out of her thoughts. “Um… maybe try talking to Jaune again? I dunno, maybe it _won’t_ be random this year. Couldn’t hurt to get a head start, you know?”

“I guess,” Ruby muttered dejectedly. Maybe Yang was right. Where _had_ Jaune gone off to, anyway? She looked around the locker room, trying to spot him. It looked like he was talking to Weiss and somebody else, who it was she didn’t know. Shrugging, Ruby headed over, just in time to hear the first snippets of their conversation.

“Pyrrha, have you given any thought to whose team you’d like to be on?” Weiss asked, clearly ignoring whatever Jaune may have been saying.

Pyrrha, a girl clad in golden armor and with a long, red ponytail, shook her head. “Not particularly. I was planning on letting the chips fall where they may.”

Weiss’s eyes lit up, almost as if she had just gotten a dastardly plan. “Well, I was thinking we could make a great team!”

At least Weiss was getting off to a good start. Pyrrha at least seemed to be accepting of it, as she smiled and nodded. “That sounds grand!”

At this point, Jaune noticed Ruby standing there, awkwardly waving to her. “Oh, hey Ruby!” he said, heading over to her. “Did you get your uh… scythe, was it?”

“Yeah!” Ruby said, already more than enthusiastic to talk about Crescent Rose.

“Wait,” Pyrrha said, turning away from Weiss. “You use a scythe?”

“Uh huh! I made it myself at Signal, combining it with a sniper rifle! I named it Crescent Rose!”

Pyrrha nodded, clearly impressed. “Wow, that’s fascinating. Well, I’m Pyrrha Nikos, I… heh, I think you’ve heard of me.”

“I have?” Ruby asked, tilting her head.

“You don’t know?” Jaune said. “Pyrrha graduated top of her class at Sanctum Academy, and won the Mistral Region Tournaments four years in a row!”

“Oh!” Ruby said. “That’s _you!_ Okay! I didn’t recognize you at all, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Pyrrha said, laughing. “It’s good to not be recognized sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, completely aghast at the idea. “You’ve built a reputation of being one of the strongest people to ever come from Argus in ages! Why _wouldn’t_ you want that recognition?”

Pyrrha shrugged, offering a sly grin. “Fame isn’t everything. I would rather be judged on my skills than perceived worth. After all, if Ruby was only known for using a scythe, I like to think she’d prefer it if people wanted to know who _she_ was, and not just the weapon.”

“Are you kidding?!” Ruby said, clutching Crescent Rose close. “Weapons are part of who we are! It’s what makes us, _us!_”

“They aren’t _everything,_ though,” Weiss scoffed, folding her arms with a harrumph. “Skill and strategy can overcome even the greatest weapons.”

Just as Ruby was about to reply, the campus’s announcement system came to life, crackling as it did so. “Would all first-year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation?” Gynda’s voice asked. “Again, all first-year students report to Beacon Cliff immediately.”

“Time to go,” Pyrrha said, waving to the three of them. “It was nice meeting all of you!”

Ruby turned to head out of the locker room, falling in behind Weiss and Jaune. Over on her left, she could see Yang, flashing her a thumbs-up. Maybe today wouldn’t be that terrible after all.

* * *

For reasons unknown to Ruby, they had been lined up on silver tiles, standing on top of them as part of their initiation. Headmaster Ozpin stood just in front of the cliff’s edge, holding a mug of what she assumed to be coffee as Glynda Goodwitch stood next to him, holding a tablet in her hands. From where she was, Ruby couldn’t make out individual words, but it looked like she had statistics on all of them on the tablet.

“For years,” Headmaster Ozpin said, “you have trained to be warriors, and today, your abilities will be revealed in the Emerald Forest. We have heard of rumors about the assignment of ‘teams.’ Allow us to put an end to your confusion.”

“Each of you will be given teammates **today,**” Glynda said.

“What?” Ruby found herself asking. Next to her, she could hear similar noises of consternation among the other students she was lined up with.

“These teammates will be with who you work with for the rest of your time here at Beacon,” Headmaster Ozpin continued. “So, it is in your best interest to be paired up with someone with whom you can work with. That being said, upon landing, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the next four years.”

_Landing?_ What did that… _wait,_ she had it figured out now. The tiles they were on must have been launch pads. If they were being thrown into the Emerald Forest head-first, then she had to make her way through the trees in order to land safely. Alright, she could do this. The next part, finding a good partner, would take longer. Maybe she could find Jaune? He seemed decent to work with.

“After you’ve partnered up,” Headmaster Ozpin said, “make your way to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path, or you _will_ die. You will be monitored and graded throughout your initiation, but our instructors will not intervene. You will find an abandoned temple, which contains several relics. Each pair must take one and return to the top of the cliff. We will regard this relic, your standing, and your performance, and grade you accordingly. Are there any questions?”

“Uh, yeah, I have one,” Jaune asked. “Uh, so this… ‘landing’ thing, are you dropping us off?”

“No. You will be falling.”

Ruby heard someone on her right launch away. She was going to be launched soon, she could feel it. She glanced over to Yang, who was right next to her. With a cocky smile on her face, Yang put on a pair of mirrored aviators before being launched away. Ruby took a deep breath, waiting for the launch. Any day now…

And just like that, she was in the air as she felt that awful drop, the feeling of her stomach sinking down. She could see the Emerald Forest in its entirety now, a massive sprawling woods that no doubt hid the creatures of Grimm that would impede her progress. Off in the distance, she could see the temple that Headmaster Ozpin spoke about, a massive structure that was far, _far_ away.

Time to slow her descent down. She unfolded Crescent Rose from her back as wind bit at her face, shouldering it as she wrapped her hand around the trigger. She fired three times straight at the ground, the recoil working to cut down her speed enough that she wouldn’t be dead upon landing. Still a bit too fast though – she maneuvered Crescent Rose around, catching the blade on a tree and circling it to slow her down even further, softly landing on the grass below.

_Gotta find Yang,_ Ruby thought as she broke into a sprint, heading basically anywhere. She hadn’t been able to track where Yang had gone in the landing, and thus she had exactly zero clues on where to start looking. She thought by now she could hear Yang fighting the Grimm – the shotguns on her gauntlets were practically the loudest things in the world – but the only thing she heard was the sound of her own boots stomping through the grass, the snapping of each twig she stepped on, and birds blissfully unaware of the chaos.

Okay, maybe finding Yang wasn’t going to happen. Who else did she know here? Blake wouldn’t be a terrible person to partner up with, since they both liked books, but could Ruby even have a conversation with her? It didn’t seem likely, based on last night’s performance. Jaune seemed alright, but she wasn’t sure if his sword could hold up in a fight. So… who else did she know?

That answer became apparent as she tripped, tumbling head over heels and landing right in front of… Weiss. Surprised, Weiss turned around, and the two immediately locked eyes. Ruby paused, just as surprised to see Weiss there, as she stood with her rapier in her hand. Without skipping a beat, Weiss turned heel and began walking away.

“Wait!” Ruby said, scrambling to get up and follow her. “Where are you going?!”

“By _no means_ does this make us friends,” Weiss said coldly as she continued to march through the forest.

“What’s the hurry?” Ruby asked, struggling to keep up the pace.

“I will _not_ let my mission be delayed because you’re too slow!” Weiss declared.

Oh, she thought Ruby was _slow,_ did she? Well, time to change her perspective on that. What Weiss didn’t know was that Ruby’s Semblance involved speed, swiftness that most people could only dream of. Ruby couldn’t help but smile as Weiss blinked in confusion.

“What the-?” she asked. “How did you…”

“I’m not slow, see?” Ruby said mischievously. “You don’t have to worry about me!”

“When did…?”

“Weiss, just because I don’t know how to deal with _people_ doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with monsters! You’re about to see a whole different side of me today!” As if to demonstrate her point, Ruby began sprinting off, leaving behind only rose petals.

“You may be fast,” she heard Weiss calling after her, “but you still excel at wasting time!”

_Wait a second._ She could hear something else with them. It sounded like growling, the sort of horrific noise she knew far too well in Patch’s surrounding environs.

_“Ruby!!”_


	3. The Emerald Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initiation continues and ends for the teams.

Yang rolled her shoulders back, sighing as she stretched out her arms. The landing was a bit rougher than she thought, even with the proper bracing. Either way, it was time to get serious. Her goal was ahead of her, _somewhere,_ and a potential four-year-long partnership stood out in the dense forests. She took her aviators off, folding them in a side pouch and setting off to whatever she thought would take her to the ruins.

“Hello?” she called, stepping over twigs and small branches. Someone had to be out here, right? Maybe she could find Ruby, but wandering around this forest was getting boring. “Is anyone out there? I promise I don’t bite!”

Something began to rustle just around the corner, hidden by a bush and a small cluster of trees. Maybe Ruby was over there? Yang approached, cautiously optimistic. Ruby wasn’t really one to hide, but stranger things had happened before.

“Ruby?” Yang asked, daring to poke the bush. “Is that you?”

The bush growled. In a flash, a massive black Ursa, its stark red-and-white mask shining bright in the sun, flew past her as it charged. With another roar, it turned heel and stared her down, its red eyes burning with an intensity she had never seen in a Grimm before. Its huge teeth seemed to grind against one another, drool dripping out of it onto the grass below.

“_Nope!”_ Yang shouted. “Just _you!”_ She stood tall, balling her fists in preparation to start fighting. Another Ursa joined it, lining up as it ready to start a race or something.

“You guys wouldn’t happen to have seen a girl in a red hood, would you?” Yang asked, to which the Ursai merely growled at her. “You _could_ have just said ‘no.’”

Apparently incensed, one of the Ursai stood on its back legs, swiping at her as Yang ducked and weaved away from the attacks. Time to go on the offensive. Yang charged at it, delivering not just solid punches, but Dust-infused blows from Ember Celica that disrupted the Ursa’s stance, forcing it into its buddy as Yang slid under it.

As she regained her footing, Yang turned back to the Ursa, watching it recover as well as the other one began to circle them hungrily. Another charge and close-quarters clash. Yang only barely escaped being enveloped by a crushing squeeze by the Ursa, breaking out of it by way of delivering a haymaker punch that cracked the Ursa’s mask. As she escaped, the Ursa threw a wide, unaimed swing, no doubt trying to hit her just once.

Yang couldn’t help but laugh, smirking at the absurdity. “Wow, you guys couldn’t hit the broad side of a-”

Just as she opened her eyes to check the Grimm’s positions, however, she saw a lock of her hair fall in front of her. They… they had actually _hit_ her? And taken her hair with them, too? Her hair was precious, the thing that made her _her_. Who cared about her own body, she spent _hours_ each day on her hair. These Grimm weren’t about to give her an unwanted trim.

“Alright, rodeo clowns,” she muttered, feeling the heat of anger rise. “_Now_ I’m mad.”

As if propelled by her own anger, Yang shot forward like a rocket, punching so fast she barely tracked where each hit even landed. One final, Dust-infused blow, and the Ursa was sent backwards into dozens of trees, knocking each one down along the way in a blaze of fire. She turned to watch the other one charge forward, pausing just short of her gaze as a tree fell behind her.

“What?!” she challenged. “You want some too?! Happy to oblige!”

The Ursa reared up, preparing to strike, and then… just fell over, with someone – wait, no, that was the girl she met last night, Blake – standing over it, a blade in the monster’s back. The two made eye contact, Blake with a neutral look to her face as Yang slammed her eyes shut for a split second, feeling the anger fade away. With a mechanical click, she watched Blake’s blade retract to her hand, sitting comfortably and prepared.

“I could have taken him,” Yang said, folding her arms.

“Sure,” Blake said deadpan. “I believe it.”

Yang furrowed her brow, frowning. “Doesn’t _sound_ like it.”

Shrugging, Blake sheathed her weapon, heading off in roundabout the same direction Yang was going in before she had been rudely interrupted. “You can think that if you want.”

_Great, paired up with Miss Chatterbox,_ Yang thought, following her new partner. Out of all the people, why’d she have to come across the only one that didn’t seem to have any idea what fun was? Their trek through the forest remained quiet, but only cautiously so. Yang wasn’t sure how skilled her new partner was in combat, but she was on watch for anything out of the ordinary. After all, Headmaster Ozpin had said they could _die_ out here. That was a pretty good motivator to be on guard.

* * *

Ruby had managed to see Weiss preparing… _something,_ maybe an attack. She didn’t know for sure, really. All she knew was that there was a circle of Grimm surrounding Weiss, and she wasn’t about to let her partner get hurt. Luckily for Ruby, she had been fast enough to act on the Grimm before it could raise a paw to attack Weiss, striking a hit on the thing with Crescent Rose.

“Gotcha!” Ruby yelled as she sped by.

Weiss’s scream distracted her, and she glanced over to see Weiss had somehow set part of the forest on fire. _That didn’t look good,_ she thought. Maybe it could help, though? Her thoughts on tactical advantages came to an end when the Beowulf in front of her grabbed Crescent Rose, throwing Ruby right into Weiss.

“What do you think you’re _doing?!_” Weiss demanded as they got up. “You attacked out of turn! I could have killed you!”

Ruby scrunched her face up, staring at Weiss in confusion. “Out of turn…?”

The Grimm in front of them, however, began to growl and whine even louder as the fire began to consume every tree in the clearing around them. _Well, there goes that theory,_ Ruby thought. Guess the Grimm weren’t big fans of fire. A flaming tree collapsed just barely in front of them, prompting Weiss to grab Ruby’s arm and drag her away from the inferno. “We have to _go!_” she shouted.

They ran, to where Weiss didn’t seem to particularly care or know. All Ruby knew was that it was far away from the smoke and fire, and away from the Grimm. Why had Weiss dragged them away? They could have taken that fight, easily. After running past at least one river to escape potential pursuing Grimm, Weiss stopped, leaning over and panting heavily.

“What _was_ that?!” Ruby asked. “That should have been easy!”

Weiss sighed heavily, having regained her breath and standing tall. “Well, perhaps if you exercised even the _slightest_ amount of caution, I wouldn’t have _set the forest on fire!_”

“You mean that wasn’t on purpose?”

Weiss’s eyes bugged out for a second, and she gestured emptily with her hands, as if trying to grab the right words as she babbled incoherently. “_**On purpose?!**_” she shouted. “Why would I set _anything_ on fire _on purpose?!_”

“I don’t know!” Ruby said defensively. “Maybe it was part of your strategy or something!”

“You know, for someone who does so much talking,” Weiss said, furrowing her brow, “you don’t do a lot of communicating during encounters!”

Ruby shrugged, still not quite seeing a problem here. “Well, I’m sorry you need my help to win a fight. I’m just _fine_ on my own!”

Weiss rolled her eyes, walking away. “Congratulations on being the strongest _child_ to ever sneak into Beacon, then! Bravo!”

Groaning, Ruby folded her arms, kicking a rock in frustration. Maybe it’d be more fun to just knock down a tree. Then again, maybe attracting more Grimm wasn’t the best of ideas, if Weiss had just set the place on fire the first time. Second show might involve her setting _Ruby_ on fire as a distraction or something.

“So, where are we going, anyway?” Ruby asked.

Weiss sighed, clearly annoyed. “To the forest temple, _obviously._ Didn’t you listen to the Headmaster?”

“I mean, yeah, but… are we going the right way?”

“Of course we are! It’s _this_ way.”

She followed Weiss over a series of fallen logs and scorched spots of earth, past a river that seemed fairly familiar, and right back to even more fallen trees. Were they going in circles?

“Okay, it’s definitely _this_ way,” Weiss said, pointing to another direction. More walking, with not a whole lot changing other than maybe a few trees here and there. Not too long after, they found themselves right back at the same river. After several moments, she paused, sighing. “Alright, it’s official – we’ve passed it.”

“Why can’t you just admit you don’t know where you’re going?” Ruby asked, trying to hide a laugh.

“It’s not like _you_ know, either!”

Ruby shrugged, looking at the trees around them. “Yeah, but I’m not pretending like I know everything.”

Weiss turned to face her, angry and confused. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You’ve acted like you’re better than me just because you’re older!” Ruby said. “Well, just because you’re from a fancy company and a bit older doesn’t mean you’re the best!”

“Just keep moving!” Weiss said in a huff as she spun herself around again, picking a random direction to go in.

“Why are you so bossy?”

Weiss whipped around, narrowing her eyes at Ruby. “I’m not bossy! Don’t say things like that!”

“Then don’t treat me like a kid!”

“Then stop acting like one!” Weiss yelled.

“_You _stop acting like you’re perfect!”

“_I’m! Not! Perfect!_” Weiss shouted, balling her fists and taking a deep breath. “Not _yet_. But I’m still leagues better than _you._”

As Weiss stormed away, Ruby felt her shoulders sink. Not even an hour with Weiss, and their friendship – and partnership – was off to the rockiest start possible. “You don’t even know me,” she muttered, but whether Weiss heard her or not was irrelevant. Ruby sighed, following Weiss to an uncertain destination. Whether their path would take them to the ruined temple or not remained to be seen.

Another hour passed, at least by Ruby’s estimation. They had trekked over another series of grass-lined paths, across streams that at least looked different from the ones before, and through groves of trees to a larger clearing, all the while in silence. Weiss was not interested in further conversation, _especially_ if that talk centered around whether or not they were going the right way. Off in the distance, scattered gunshots could be heard. They weren’t the only ones to have encountered the Grimm, it looks like.

Weiss slowly scanned the area, deeming it clear enough to proceed. Ruby cautiously followed, unsure whether or not Weiss had actually seen everything. It felt like every single bush was hiding a massive Ursa, just waiting for them to pass by so it could ambush them and rip the two to shreds. Each twig that snapped could have been a Grimm. What if they were supposed to do some sort of free-for-all fight for the relics, and they had to fight teams of enemy Hunters? Could Weiss be relied upon to help her?

“Do you see that?” Weiss asked, pointing to another clearing. Ruby looked around, spotting what must have been the ruined temple. Small stone pedestals sat in a half-circle around the crumbling stonework, with ornate pillars that bore the scars of what must have been years of weather abuse etched on.

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “Let’s go look!”

With reckless abandon, Ruby ignored potential danger as she headed over to the ruins – after all, their goal was in sight. Getting the relic and extracting was their only real goal now. Even if there was an army of Grimm in front of them, what did it matter? They could bolt and run. Well, Ruby knew _she_ could. Weiss she was less sure about.

“Chess pieces?” Weiss asked as they neared the pedestals.

Ruby glanced over the assembled relics, spotting only one that caught her eye. “Ooh! Look! We can take a pony!”

Rolling her eyes, Weiss sighed heavily. “That’s a _knight,_ you dolt. Okay, _fine,_ I guess we’re going with that. Let’s go.”

Just as she and Weiss were about to head back towards the cliff, both of them heard the sound of twigs and branches cracking. They immediately drew their weapons, aiming at the threat and prepared for a fight.

But, the only thing that came out of the woods was Yang, and… wait, was that Blake? Yang paused for a split second upon spotting the weapons pointed at her, but soon waved, smiling wide. “Hey, sis!”

“Yang?”

“Yup,” Weiss muttered, lowering her rapier and walking away. “We’re leaving now.”

Ruby blinked, stunned for a moment until she grabbed Weiss’s arm and held her back, trying to keep them all at least somewhat close together. “But wait! Hold on! We have to go back through the forest, right? Why not stick together?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby saw Yang head over to the relics, smiling as she picked on up and turned it over in her hand. Blake nodded approvingly when she saw it, shifting her weight. “Yeah, you’re right,” Blake said. “Numbers help.”

“Well heck,” Yang said. “This wasn’t too hard.”

“It’s not like this place was very difficult to find.”

A gunshot rang out, but this wasn’t distant like the others. No, this one was close, _very_ close, and it was quickly followed up by a staccato burst of even more shots, accompanied with yelling. All eyes turned to the forest they had just come from, where a massive Deathstalker crashed into the scene, with Jaune, Pyrrha, and two people that Ruby didn’t know trading blows with it.

“Is… is that…” Blake muttered. “Is that a Deathstalker?”

“Great!” Yang shouted. “The gang’s all here! Now we can all die together!”

Ruby let go of Weiss’s arm, taking hold of Crescent Rose with a solid grip as she charged forward. “Not if I can help it!”

If Yang had called out to her, Ruby didn’t hear it. Jaune was holding his ground with his sword and shield in hand as Pyrrha flanked wide, where she was going to Ruby was unsure. The other two – one a black-haired boy and the other a redheaded girl – seemed to be hanging back, as if looking for an opportunity.

Ruby though, Ruby used Crescent Rose’s recoil to propel herself forward right towards the Deathstalker, maneuvering it around to cut into the beast. With an almost impossible reaction time, the Grimm used one of its massive claws to smack her away like a fly, throwing her into a nearby tree. Something screeched overheard, and as she recovered, Ruby glanced up to spot a Nevermore, circling them. Definitely not good.

More importantly, though, something hurt. Her Aura hadn’t been depleted too much by that hit, but that punishment couldn’t be sustained forever. Usually her speed made up for a less-than-spectacular Aura, but when facing something like this… she’d have to be a _lot_ more careful. Ruby picked herself off the ground, firing a single round into the Deathstalker’s skull as it turned its full attention towards her. Time to run away.

All around her, sharpened feathers rained down, one of which catch Ruby’s flowing cape. She fell on her back, suddenly caught by her own clothing and unable to go further. Could she rip it and free herself? Maybe.

“Ruby!” Yang shouted, heading towards her. “Get out of there!”

“I’m trying!” She continued to pull at her cape, which proved uncooperative at best. The Deathstalker was right over her, a massive stinger just ready to kill her. Her Aura couldn’t save her from this sort of attack. Like a rock, her heart sank into her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to _die_ here.

In the time it took her to blink however, the Deathstalker’s tail had suddenly become encased in ice, and Weiss stood in front of her, hands on her hips and seething. “You are **so** childish!”

Ruby stared, wondering when Weiss had even gotten there and what had happened. “Weiss…?”

“_And_ dim-witted, _and_ hyperactive, and don’t even get me _started_ on your fighting style! And I suppose I can be a bit… _difficult,_ but if we’re going to do this, we have to work together, so if you _quit showing off,_ then I’ll be… I suppose _nicer._”

“I’m not trying to show off,” Ruby said weakly. “I want you to know I can do this.”

Weiss still just stood there, sighing. “You’re _fine,_” she said as she walked off.

Just as quickly as Ruby had picked herself off the ground, Yang had rushed over, hugging her tightly. “I’m really, _really_ happy you’re okay,” Yang said quietly. “Please don’t do that again, for the love of God.”

“No promises,” Ruby said.

As if intended to ruin the moment, the Nevermore above them cawed again, still circling them. “It’s circling back!” the black-haired boy said. “We should go before the Deathstalker escapes!”

“Do you guys have your artifacts?” Blake called out, unsheathing her weapons.

“Yeah!” Jaune called.

“Let’s go, then!” Yang shouted, already breaking into a sprint.

“Where are we going?” Pyrrha asked.

“Anywhere but here!” Weiss yelled back.

The forest they had just been in began to fade away, replaced by another series of seemingly abandoned structures. A massive stone bridge spanned a chasm covered in fog, obscuring the true distance below them – not that Ruby cared to know exactly how high up they were. They spread out, taking cover behind fallen pillars as the Nevermore perched itself on a massive column, cawing as if to taunt them.

“Come on!” Yang shouted.

“The Deathstalker’s back!” Jaune shouted. Each person broke from cover, causing the Nevermore to rise up to the air again. It was _waiting_ for them to come out, pick them out one by one. There had to be a decision made here – focus on either the Deathstalker, kill the Nevermore, or somehow try and fight both at the same time. The Nevermore had almost made the decision for them, sending down more sharpened feathers on the bridge they were on.

“If anybody has a grand plan, now’s the time to yell it out!” Yang said, lobbing shots at the Deathstalker.

Gunshots began to fill the air as Pyrrha, Blake, and Ruby herself began to fire on alternating targets. She began to focus on the Nevermore, which circled around them as the Deathstalker trapped them on the bridge. The Grimm’s strategy was clear – box them in and give them nowhere to run. Crescent Rose’s shots just bounced off of it, and it didn’t seem like Yang’s shotguns or Blake’s weapons were doing much either.

“I’ve got a plan!” Ruby shouted. Time to finish this thing off. The Nevermore circled around them once more as Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang advanced across the bridge, leaving Jaune, Pyrrha and the two newcomers to deal with the Deathstalker. Judging by the weapons fire coming from there, they had a plan of their own to defeat it. The four climbed up a massive stone tower that stood in the middle of the canyon, throwing everything they had at the Grimm.

In response, it merely destroyed the tower they had been on, which Ruby had expected. Time to put the plan into action. Ruby leaped into the air, firing Crescent Rose to gain height and speed as she flung herself at the Nevermore, swinging just in time to nail it against the cliff and Yang began to close in, firing at its legs. Weiss was there almost immediately, pinning it to an outcropping with a blast of ice. All three of them broke off to fall back to Blake, who had recognized what they were about to do.

She had taken her weapon, with some sort of bow across it, and with Yang’s help, stretched it across two columns that were lined up perfectly with the Nevermore. Ruby stretched the bow back like a slingshot, with Weiss keeping her in place with either her Semblance or her weapon’s help, she wasn’t sure which.

“Only _you_ would come up with an idea like this,” Weiss commented.

“Can you make the shot?” Ruby asked.

Weiss scoffed, smiling. “Of _course_ I can.”

With a nod, Ruby prepared herself to kill the Nevermore, just as Weiss released her and launched her forward. Just to guarantee she’d take this thing’s head off, Ruby fired Crescent Rose the entire way to maintain momentum, as white circles appeared on the cliff face heading up. As she hit the Nevermore, she wrapped her scythe around its neck, dragging it up as she ran straight up the cliff. With a flair of rose petals that danced around her as she activated her Semblance, Ruby yelled in triumph as the Nevermore’s head came off its body, falling to the cliff above as she landed.

Panting heavily, Ruby stood tall, looking back at her new friends. This was going to be a good start to the school year.

* * *

Well after initiation, they had returned to the cliff, to then be shuttled back to the ballroom at Beacon in order to find out how the teams aligned. After all, these were the teams they’d spend four years with while attending Beacon, who _wouldn’t_ be anxious to find out who the other members were? So far, there had been a great number of teams so far, none including Ruby and Weiss yet. Yang and Blake also remained uncalled, even as groups of four headed up and presented their relics. Ruby began to detect a pattern – the chess pieces corresponded to which pairs formed the teams, something that was only confirmed when the next team came up.

“Cardin Winchester. Russel Thrush. Dove Bronzewing. Sky Lark.” Headmaster Ozpin said, a profile shot of each boy appearing on a screen as Ozpin said their names. “The four of your retrieved the black bishop pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team CRDL, led by Cardin Winchester!”

Ruby clapped along with the countless other teams old and new behind her. The large screen changed to show the white rook pieces, calling on those who had taken those relics to stand up and head to the stage. Next to her, Jaune stood up, followed quickly by Pyrrha.

“Jaune Arc. Lie Ren. Pyrrha Nikos. Nora Valkyrie.” Headmaster Ozpin said, nodding in approval. “The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team JNPR, led by Jaune Arc!”

Jaune’s face betrayed his own surprise, as he blinked several times and seemed to stop breathing entirely. In short order, though, he regained his composure, nodding sharply with a look of determination on his face. He glanced over to Ruby, who couldn’t help but beam and flash him a thumbs-up. Time for Ruby and Weiss to come up now – the white knight piece was called for. As she headed up, the surprise was thrown out – Yang and Blake had apparently been called upon now. Perfect!

“And finally,” Headmaster Ozpin said. Blake Belladonna. Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Yang Xiao Long. The four of you retrieved the white knight pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team RWBY, led by Ruby Rose!”

Immediately, Yang ran over to her, hugging her tightly and reminding her that she was proud of Ruby. This time, Ruby let the hug overtake her as she couldn’t help but squeal in excitement.

“This is shaping up to be an… interesting year,” Headmaster Ozpin said.


	4. The Badge and The Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes begin for Teams RWBY and JNPR.

“Good morning, Team RWBY!” Ruby shouted as she stood in the center of their room. “Now that Weiss is awake, we can officially begin our first order of business!”

Weiss, sighing heavily and perhaps still a bit groggy, simply stared at her. “Ex-_cuse_ me?”

“Decorating!” Yang said, holding various posters, among other things.

“What?”

Blake held up her suitcase, letting it open onto the floor. “We still have to unpack… and clean.”

“We’ve got this!” Ruby said, striking a triumphant pose. “All we have to do is figure out where our stuff goes and then go to class!”

“Wait, class?” Weiss asked. “That’s at 9, right?”

Ruby blinked, taking her planner out. “Uh… yeah, it looks like our first class together is-”

“You dunce!” Weiss shouted. “It’s 8:40 already! Why didn’t you people wake me up earlier?! Our classes are on the other side of campus!”

“Wait, that doesn’t-”

“We _can’t_ be late on the first day,” Weiss explained, rushing to get into her uniform. “We can handle this later! But right now we have to _go!_”

In a blur, Weiss had already gathered her first day materials and disappeared out the door, and with a shrug, Yang and Blake followed. _Okay, so less than spectacular start,_ Ruby thought as she grabbed her bookbag. Maybe classes themselves would be better.

* * *

Their first class of the day was with Professor Tavish Finnegan Degroot, an imposing man with armor that covered his chest, massive cartridges of Dust overflowing from his pouches and lined up in two vertical rows of three on his chest. His left eye was gone, replaced by an eyepatch that accented his neatly trimmed goatee. Atop his head sat a black beanie, and his single brown eye stared them down as he looked out among his students.

“Welcome tae Dust 101,” Professor Degroot said, his arms folded behind his back. “Don’t fret, I’ll be making sure none o’ ya manage tae blow yourselves up in my class.”

“B-blow up?” Jaune asked.

“Oi!” Professor Degroot shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Jaune. “Keep your wee mouths _shut_ unless I ask you a question! If I were a smart lad, I’d be writing down some notes about now!”

Even though she hadn’t been singled out, Ruby nodded and clicked her pen, putting it near paper to start taking notes. He seemed fairly serious about all this.

“Right. Dust is highly volatile. One crossed wire, one wayward pinch of Aura, _one errant twitch – _and **kablooie!** Your arm’s off and a Grimm’s beatin’ you with the soggy end! So, take me lessons well, and you’ll live. Don’t, and it ain’t my fault.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Cardin Winchester said, raising his hand. “We all know about Dust already. So why should we be listening to you? What makes you good enough to teach us?”

Professor Degroot paused, slowly turning to him and blinking as if he couldn’t actually believe someone had asked that. “What makes _me_ a good Huntsman?” he asked. “If I were a _bad_ Huntsman, then I wouldn’t be sitting here, discussin’ it with ya, now _would_ I?! You’re dealing with things you think you understand, laddie, well mark my words, I’ll make sure you learn!”

“Now,” he said, whipping around to face the chalkboard. “Where was I? Oh, aye. As I was saying before I was _rudely interrupted,_ Dust is highly volatile. We can use it for a lot of things, but the main usage I worry about is for weaponry. Sure, you can use it for your cars, or your factories, or what-have-you, but we’re _Hunters!_ We care only about banishing the demons back tae whence they came! In case ye _don’t_ know, your weapons use Dust activated by your Aura in order tae fire shots or do some fancy tricks.”

“Ugh, I should leave now,” Weiss whispered to Ruby. “It’s like he has no idea I’ve been around this my entire life.”

“We can always learn…” Ruby offered weakly.

By now, Professor Degroot had drawn up several different diagrams of Dust, demarcating different properties of each type. Ruby did her best to follow with the drawings and diagrams, but her artistry skills weren’t exactly the best.

“So, what makes Dust so bloody dangerous, you ask? It’s simple. When used improperly, such as overloading a weapon with too much Dust, or firing different types of Dust too rapidly, you run the risk of damaging your weapon, and when you weaken your weapon, you run the risk of explosion. If a sudden jolt hits the wrong type of Dust – say, fire Dust for example – you could have an explosion that takes out an entire block! _So do me a bloody favor and don’t drop any of my Dust!_”

Ruby raised her hand. Something wasn’t quite making sense to her. He nodded, pointing at her to allow her to speak. “Uh, yes, Professor Degroot. Uh, what do you mean when you say using different types of Dust too fast?”

“Aye, a common mistake I see with a lot of young Hunters,” he said, nodding. “You like tae stick to a Dust type and use it against everything, but the secret is not all Dust is suited tae all targets. So, you’re going along with your ice dust, and you come tae realize you can’t kill the Grimm with it. So, you think, ‘Ice don’t work, so I’ll use Fire!’ and you load up some fire Dust. Now your problem is you’ve got fire mixing with a cold weapon, and you can crack your weapon’s barrel if it’s got one. Worse, the change in temperature causes a catastrophic explosion, and now you’ve got parts of your gun in your face, you’re missing your arm, and a Grimm’s ripped your leg off and is beating you with the soggy end!”

“What does ‘soggy end’ mean?” Yang asked Ruby, leaning over. She could only shrug in response.

“So, you’re probably wondering how best tae know what to use against what. Truth is, lads and lassies, you won’t know until you kill at least fifty of each Grimm, and trust me, _there’s a lot of bloody Grimm out there._ Best practice among veteran Hunters is tae load up one round each of the Dust types, and cycle through them until you find something that affects whatever you’re fighting the most. Always give your weapon time tae acclimatize tae normal temperatures between fights if you can.”

Yang raised her hand, to which he nodded again. “What if we can’t?”

“Then cycle through. Fire is the hottest, ice is the coldest, in case you haven’t figured that out already. Wind goes after fire, followed by rock Dust. I know of _experimental_ Dust out there, and that I can’t say for sure about.” He grinned, a decidedly mischievous look to his eye. “That, you’ll have tae figure out on your own.”

“Excuse me!” Weiss said, her hand flying up. Her face was wrought with barely-concealed irritation, the sort of fuming expression that Ruby had seen on Weiss’s face many times in the forest and on their first day on campus.

“I’ll give ya a pass for opening up, but don’t do it again,” Professor Degroot said. “What’s your question?”

“There is no such thing as _experimental_ Dust within the Dust industry anymore,” Weiss said, frowning. “The Schnee Dust Company has spent years honing the refining techniques and manufacturing processes to create lightning, gravity, lava, and water Dust, among _other_ uses. These varieties of Dust are perfectly safe as long as the user retains control over it.”

Professor Degroot smirked, nodding. “Aye, the same could be said about any type of Dust. Well, I believe one of you ungrateful _students_ questioned my authority on this subject. So, I ask _you:_ What makes _you_ so qualified tae talk about Dust?”

“Do you have _any_ idea who I am?” Weiss asked, clearly indignant. “I’m-!”

“Aye, you’re Weiss Schnee, of the Schnee Dust Company. Half the bloody campus knows who you are! You can’t hide from the family name, little miss Schnee, and let me tell you something; just because you’re the heiress to the company doesn’t mean you know everything!”

“How _dare-!_”

He wagged a finger at her, narrowing his eye with the most intense demeanor Ruby had ever seen out of someone. “Don’t come wide with _me,_ Miss Schnee! If you’re so bloody knowledgeable about Dust, then, explain the Blackfoot Effect!”

Weiss paused. Had she actually been stumped for once? Ruby thought Weiss knew everything there was to know about Dust. “I… the what?”

“Given a barrel that’s two cubits long, using a standard large caliber Dust cartridge, what sort of pressure can be expected with a bolt-action system?”

“Uh… well…”

Professor Degroot threw his hands up, circling his desk like a vulture. “There ye have it! Proof positive right there, ladies and gentlemen! I was not joking when I told ye that you’re dealing with things you _think_ you understand. This should be a bloody wakeup call to the lot of you – learn these lessons well, pay bloody _attention,_ and it may just save your life one day.”

Professor Degroot continued to lecture them on Dust’s various utilities, mostly as they related to combat. He explained that the size of the Dust cartridge used in the rifle determined how powerful the strike would be – thus, a high-caliber rifle like Ruby’s would be more powerful than a pistol-sized weapon like the one Blake used, but that didn’t always correlate to pure strength. Some creatures of Grimm were less susceptible to larger Dust calibers, but smaller ones were more effective. Conversely, smaller calibers had no effect on some creatures, while larger ones were perfect. As he explained it, there was a constant game of trying to figure out what was best suited to which target, and thankfully most types were well-known and could be identified in the textbook that they had on Dust.

Their homework after the hour-long lecture had ended was to study their Dust textbook, and at tomorrow morning’s class, be able to answer a short quiz regarding the basics of Dust he had gone over and their types. They’d be spending weeks discussing the finer points of Dust and how to properly utilize it, and he stressed that it was important they understand the fundamentals.

For now, however, they had to head to Professor Port’s class on the Grimm.

The four headed through the halls, trying to track the path to their next lecture. Ruby couldn’t speak for anyone else, but she was starting to be overwhelmed with the massive amount of knowledge she’d have to absorb while here, and the implications of death should she fail to retain everything she learned hung over her head like a proverbial sword of doom.

“Hey, so who was that one guy, Winlock or something?” Yang asked. “The one that was going on to Professor Degroot?”

“Oh yeah,” Blake said. “Cardin Winchester, I think it is. I’m… not sure why he was so weird about the Professor’s qualifications.”

“Well, it’s a fair question,” Weiss said, her first words since Professor Degroot had called her out. “This is a prestigious academy.”

“I don’t think they’d be here if they weren’t skilled,” Blake said, shrugging.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby spotted Jaune hanging out with his team. She hadn’t seen him since morning, and had no time to talk to him before their class on Dust. They had some time now – she should catch up. Ruby let her team know where she was going, and headed off in a flash to him. It looked like they were getting along great, compared to the… well, _rocky_ start that Ruby and Weiss had gotten off to.

“Hey Jaune!” Ruby said, waving as she approached. Jaune turned, smiling and waving back as Pyrrha, Nora and Ren continued the conversation they had ongoing. “How’s it going with you guys? Good first day so far?”

“Yeah!” Jaune said. “It’s been going pretty well. I guess I’m just… a little surprised, is all, at being leader.”

Ruby tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean? Don’t you want to be the leader? I was _thrilled_ to hear the Headmaster chose me!”

Jaune shifted his weight nervously, his eyes darting from side to side. “Yeah, I mean… I _do,_ but… well, I figured Pyrrha would, since she’s so smart and all.”

“Hello again!” Pyrrha said, waving at Ruby before going back to her conversation.

“Well… I don’t know,” Ruby said, shrugging. “Maybe the Headmaster sees something in you. I mean, we’re all here for a reason, right?”

Jaune paused, blinking as he looked to the floor. “Uh… yeah, a reason,” he repeated slowly. “Well, uh, we gotta go to class. I’ll see you around, Ruby!”

“Okay! See you then!”

Ruby watched Jaune turn and head out with his team, and exhaled slowly. She was trying to learn _more_ about Jaune, not just get him to go all blank-faced and space out for a few minutes! Maybe tomorrow would be better.

“Hey, Ruby!” Yang called, waving to her. “You gonna join us in class, or what?”

“Coming!” Ruby said. Well, another class, more notes to take. She couldn’t dwell too much on one botched conversation. She headed into the lecture hall, a semicircular sort of room. Yang, Weiss and Blake had already taken up front row, with a spot left open for her that she more than willingly took, putting her notebook out as their teacher stood at the center of the room. His bushy eyebrows seemed to look them over as he stood there with his hands behind his back, as if trying to scan them for future potential.

As the clock struck 10:45, he cleared his throat. “Welcome to Grimm Studies! I am Professor Port, your teacher for this year.” He headed to the board, pulling down a diagram of various Grimm, including several Ruby remembered fighting in the Emerald Forest like the Deathstalker and Nevermore. “Monsters! Demons, _prowlers of the night!_ The creatures of Grimm have many names, but I prefer to call them _prey!_”

Ruby blinked, wondering if this was a joke. Regardless, she started to do her best to copy the sketches, and created a few of her own from her memories of combat yesterday.

“And _you_ shall too, upon graduating from this academy! Vale, as well as the other kingdoms in Atlas, Mistral and Vacuo, and the _‘people’s rabble’_ in Gorizont, are safe havens in an otherwise treacherous world! Our planet is absolutely _teeming_ with creatures that would love nothing more than to tear you to pieces! And that’s where we come in. Hunters and Huntresses – we are individuals who have sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves! From what, you ask? Why, the very _world!_”

Ruby already _knew_ these things. She _knew_ that the Grimm were dangerous. God, yesterday’s combat had drained her. Ruby felt her eyelids drooping, and quite unintentionally she found herself falling asleep, only to be smacked awake by Weiss a few times. Professor Port had gone on about some story, what it was and how it was relevant Ruby didn’t know, since she had long stopped paying attention and began doodling.

He cleared his throat once again, now starting to pace the room. “Now, there are five things a Huntsman must be in order to survive against the Grimm. He must be honorable. He must be dependable. He must be strategic, well-educated, and wise. Who among you believes themselves to be the _embodiment_ of these traits?”

“I do, sir!” Weiss shouted, unexpectedly.

Professor Port smiled, nodding. “Then let’s find out! Step forward, and face your opponent!”

With a huff, Weiss left her seat, drawing her rapier. An assistant rolled in a cage, which growled with the sound of an angry Grimm inside it. If Weiss was afraid, she didn’t show it. But, Ruby believed in Weiss, even if Weiss didn’t quite believe in _her_.

“Go, Weiss!” Ruby said. “Represent Team RWBY!”

“Ruby!” Weiss chastised. “I’m trying to _focus!_”

Ruby felt herself grow smaller, as if recoiling into her uniform. “Oh, uh… sorry.”

“Let the match begin!” Professor Port declared, opening up the cage. A Boarbatusk charged out immediately, which Weiss reacted to by using her rapier to deflect its charge and rolled to the side. The Grimm snorted as it shook its head, turning and studying Weiss.

“Hang in there, Weiss!” Ruby said.

In a blink, Weiss set off towards the Boarbatusk, stabbing it in the skull. However, her weapon’s blade had little effect, as it merely got stuck as the Boarbatusk counter-charged, with Weiss hanging on. She struggled to get her weapon back as it circled the room.

“Come on, Weiss! Show it who’s boss!”

Weiss glared at Ruby, and in a flash the Boarbatusk turned its head and ripped her weapon from Weiss’s grip. It flew across the room, landing far, _far_ away from Weiss, who was quickly knocked back by the Grimm’s tusks.

“Oh ho!” Professor Port said. “Now what will you do, without your weapon?”

The Boarbatusk charged once more, this time right for Weiss. She rolled out of the way again, making a break for her weapon which she easily picked up. If the Boarbatusk charged again… wait, Ruby could see an opportunity. Could Weiss see it too? “Weiss! Go for its belly! There’s no armor under-”

“Stop telling me what to do!” Weiss shouted.

Ruby blinked, surprised at Weiss’s sudden outburst. She thought that Weiss would have at least appreciated the help. But it wasn’t even like Ruby was _telling_ her what to do – was she? Ruby couldn’t help but feel she had done something wrong, but what _was_ it? Still, though, the Grimm was advancing towards Weiss again, this time taking to the air. Weiss let out a shout, using a glyph of hers to drive her blade straight into the Boarbatusk’s stomach, causing it to squeal as it was killed.

“Bravo!” Professor Port said, clapping as Weiss tossed the creature off her blade. “Bra-_vo!_ It appears we are _indeed_ in the presence of a Huntress-in-training! Unfortunately, that was all the time we have for today, so I must cut this class short. You should all have your textbooks on the Grimm, remember to read pages 15 to 24 before the next class! Dismissed!”

Before Ruby could even think of collecting her stuff into a bag, Weiss had stomped up, practically threw her books and notes into her bag, and stormed off again, without even so much as glancing at the rest of them.

“Jeez,” Yang asked. “What’s with _her?_”

Ruby shook her head, quickly following her. She _had_ to catch up with her. Ruby had done _something_ wrong, and it wouldn’t be a good start to her leadership career if she let something like this go without trying to address it. Ruby headed out into the hallway, spotting Weiss turning a corner. She followed, able to catch up. “Weiss!”

“_What?!_” Weiss demanded, whipping around.

“What’s wrong? Why are you-”

Weiss’s face twisted in anger, as she gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong with _me?!_ What’s wrong with _you?!_ You’re supposed to be a _leader,_ and all you’ve been so far is a nuisance!”

“What did I do?” Ruby asked, crestfallen.

“That’s just it,” Weiss replied, rolling her eyes. “You’ve done _nothing_ to earn your position! At the forest, you acted like a child, and nothing’s changed since!”

“Where is this coming from?” Ruby asked. A lump began to form in her throat, as if her own sadness was coming to the forefront to become physical. “What happened to the talk of ‘working together?’ I thought you believed in acting as a team, Weiss.”

“Not a team led by _you,_” Weiss said coldly. “I’ve studied and _trained,_ and quite frankly, I deserve better. Headmaster Ozpin made a mistake.”

Ruby could do nothing but watch Weiss storm away again, but this time she didn’t dare follow. Part of her wanted to just fall on the floor as tears began to slowly roll down her face. What if Weiss was right? What if she really _wasn’t_ leadership material?

What if everything Ruby had spent her life building up to was just a lie?

“That didn’t seem to go very well,” Headmaster Ozpin said, suddenly appearing behind her with a mug of coffee in his hand, his cane in the other. Ruby sighed, hoping that somehow her tears would dry by the time she turned to face him. Unfortunately for her, they didn’t.

“Is she right?” Ruby asked, practically shaking. “Did you make a mistake?”

The Headmaster paused, merely taking a sip of his coffee. “I don’t know,” he said, unhelpfully. “That remains to be seen.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked, confused.

“It’s only been one day, Miss Rose. I’ve made more mistakes than any man, woman or child on this planet,” the Headmaster said, smiling slightly. “But, at this moment, I would not consider your appointment to leader to be one of them. Do you?”

Ruby sighed, looking down as her shoulders sank. “Well… right now, yeah. Weiss doesn’t want me to be the leader. I don’t know what Blake thinks. And… well, I’d like to think Yang wants me to, but I don’t know.”

“Being a team leader isn’t just a title you carry into battle, but a badge you wear constantly. If you don’t always perform at your best, then what reason do you give others to follow you?” He sipped on his coffee again, adjusting his glasses as the mug came down. “It’s a burden with a daunting responsibility, Miss Rose. Leadership decisions are not always to be taken lightly, or will be popular. But you must take them with the knowledge that each decision can affect lives, and not just your own and your teammates, but the lives of those around you. Finding the peace and comfort in performing as your best, irrespective of ‘bad days’ and personal strife, is what you should aim for. I would advise you to take some time, to think about how you will uphold it.”

* * *

Weiss sighed as she continued to wander Beacon’s halls. Of _course_ her luck would have it that she would be paired up with the most incompetent girl in school, even more so have to suffer under her “_leadership,”_ if it could even be called that. It had even been hours later, with no other classes with Ruby necessary, and _still_ she found herself irritated and overwhelmingly consumed with outrage at Ruby’s antics. Who did she think she was, a mere _child_ trying to attend such a highly rigorous and demanding school like Beacon? She should have stayed at whatever second-rate combat school she attended prior.

Somehow, Weiss found herself on one of Beacon’s many balconies, and Professor Degroot stood here, admiring not just his weapon – a longsword of an older type Weiss had not seen in many years – but the sunset as well as the day began to turn into night. He must have heard her walk out, as he grunted, turning around.

“Ah, the wee Schnee heiress!” he said, resting his sword on his shoulder. “Tae what d’ I owe the pleasure?”

“O-oh, uh, I was just… thinking,” she said weakly.

“Aye, no doubt about the glories of the day? Professor Port told me what ye did in his class, now _that’s_ what we call the true blood of a Huntress! I’ve got me eye on you!”

Well, at least _someone_ recognized her talent. “You really think I do?” Weiss asked, smiling.

“Well, of course! But I can see something troubling you, lassie – go on, then! Tell me of it, ol’ Professor Degroot’s only got one good eye, but his ears are just fine.”

Weiss sighed. How else could she word what had been haunting her all day? May as well go with the direct route. “Well… I think I should be the leader of Team RWBY!”

The silence emanating from Professor Degroot was deafening, until finally he broke out laughing, quite literally slapping his knee as he was doubled over. “That’s absurd!” he shouted in between haughty wheezes of laughter.

“Ex_cuse_ me?!” Weiss demanded, frowning.

Professor Degroot stood back up, letting the last gasps of laughter fizzle out as he shook his head. “Aye, I mean what I said. I’ve held my trust in the Headmaster for many a year, and not _once_ has he led me astray!”

“So you would just _blindly_ accept his decision even seeing how exceptional I am?”

“Oh, aye, you’re good at killing demons,” Professor Degroot said. “Your skill in banishing them, however, is only outmatched by your poor attitude.”

“How _dare_ you!”

He smirked knowingly, nodding as if Weiss had just made his point for him. “And there it is. I look at you, and I see a girl who’s spent her entire life getting exactly what she wants!”

“That’s not even _remotely_ true!” Weiss protested, folding her arms. But… well, the more she thought about it, the more he had a bit of a point. She _had_ spent a lot of time only asking for something, and then getting it mere hours later, if that. “Well, not _entirely_ true.”

“So,” Professor Degroot said, placing his blade’s edge on the ground. “You aren’t the leader. D’you really think that acting the way ye are would cause anyone to change their mind? Do you think by whinging, that will prove you’re ready for leadership? Don’t fret, lassie, about what ye _don’t_ have, and savor what ye _do._ Keep practicing, keep learning, keep refining, and be not the best _leader,_ but the best _person_ ye can be.”

Weiss looked up, seeing that he had a wide smile on his face as if he had given this sort of speech to dozens of students before. Maybe he _had._ Maybe Weiss was just one in another long line of people who had come to him, believing themselves to be experts in everything – like Weiss had, despite her claims to Ruby that she never entertained such a thing – only to come to Beacon to have such delusions shattered.

“Thank you, Professor Degroot,” Weiss said, nodding and bowing slightly. “I think that helps.”

She headed back to her dorm, heading in to see Yang and Blake were already fast asleep. Lights out seemed to have been called, and it looked like Ruby had decided to circumvent these orders by pitching a miniature tent out of her blankets. Weiss gingerly raised one of the corners up, seeing that Ruby had fallen asleep on top of her notes, dozens of open books – some from classes they weren’t even supposed to _take_ yet – lying around her.

Well… if she was ruining her own sleep schedule in order to try to learn, then that much should be appreciated, _respected_ even. Even after today, even after all the chaos and general annoyance Ruby had caused Weiss, she could recognize now that Ruby did not mean it out of malice. She was just doing exactly what she had told Weiss in the Emerald Forest – Ruby was trying to prove to Weiss that she could do this.

Weiss gently nudged Ruby awake, and slowly, the other girl’s eyes opened as she rejoined the land of the awake. “Weiss!” she said. “I-I was studying, and then I fell asleep! I’m sorry-!”

Immediately, Weiss put a hand over Ruby’s mouth, raising a finger to her own lips. It looked like Ruby understood _that._ Nearby, she also saw an empty coffee cup, with Beacon’s logo on it. Ruby must have been drinking out of it. “How do you take your coffee?” Weiss asked.

“Uh… I… don’t.”

“Answer the question!”

“Cream and five sugars!”

_So much sugar,_ Weiss thought. Ruby was bound to put herself in a diabetic coma that way. “Don’t move,” she said.

A pot sat on the table between Weiss and Ruby’s beds, still warm by the looks of it. Weiss took Ruby’s mug and filled it with more coffee, putting in an irresponsible amount of sugar and enough cream to remove the black entirely from it, handing it back to Ruby. “Here.”

“Uh… thanks, Weiss,” Ruby said, no doubt unsure where this was coming from.

Weiss smiled, hoping that this could at least make up for what she had said earlier. “Ruby, I… I want you to know that I think you have what it takes to be a good leader. It’s going to be a long path, but… I think you can do it.”

At this, Ruby’s face lit up, and she smiled. “Thanks, Weiss.”

“That’s wrong, by the way,” Weiss said, pointing at one of Ruby’s papers.


	5. Jaundice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaune figures out some problems.

Jaune Arc had a problem. Well, multiple problems, come to think of it.

The first was that, after five months of training, attending classes, and studying, he was still ranked at the bottom percentile of the entire year.

The second problem was that he was slowly coming to realize that Ruby Rose was becoming much more than just a friend in his mind.

For Jaune, sparring in Combatives 111 against fellow classmates almost always ended horribly for him, and while he scored well on strategy and tactic tests and quizzes, actually implementing the things he had learned and incorporating it into his combat style proved nearly impossible. For Combatives instructor Professor Slate Wellers, this was the highest offense that could ever be invented.

Jaune remembered well his grand speeches that rivaled the stories Professor Port droned on about, how combat was the ultimate decider of a Huntsman’s skills and those who did not fight were doomed to fail. For someone like Jaune, who had a long legacy of Hunters behind him – successful ones, even – it was salt in an already raw wound. It felt like no matter how hard he tried, nothing was ever enough. Dueling with Pyrrha helped, but he could tell she was going easy on him. Studying could only get him so far. Each week he spent practicing a new style, it felt like a week going back in time with each arrested development of a new technique.

Of course, it didn’t much help that he couldn’t get Ruby out of his head. He couldn’t understand _why_ it had become this way, because two months ago it was like she had just been any other person. But something had changed, like someone flicked a switch and suddenly, the lights were on and he could see with perfect clarity.

Jaune saw the little glances she stole his way. The smiles on her face when they happened to cross one another. The way she always went out of her way to come talk to him, even when it was inconvenient for her to do so. Her questions and comments always went beyond just small talk, and if it hadn’t been for touches on the arm here and there, Jaune would be sure he was reading too much into it.

And yet, Jaune couldn’t help but be enamored with even the smallest things. The way she smiled, unbridled enthusiasm that made even the craziest ideas sound fun, and an inside joke in the form of “normal knees” - something Ruby had said offhand when Yang said that with her scythe skills, Ruby would be the “bee’s knees” at the Vytal Tournament. Not to mention, there was something about her silver eyes that drew him to her, like a beacon in the night.

He really couldn’t believe he had just made that comparison. Don Juan he was not.

“Hey, Jaune,” Pyrrha said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you ready to spar today?”

Jaune sighed, slowly nodding. “Yeah, I guess.” Of course, true to his luck, Pyrrha’s friendly face soon turned into a frown. She could _always_ tell when something was bothering him.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“I wish I could say it was,” Jaune said.

Pyrrha apparently took this as an invitation to sit down next to him on the dorm’s roof, watching the evening creep across the horizon. He liked coming up here when he couldn’t figure out what to do next, kind of like when he’d hide away somewhere in a tree to get away from his sisters back home.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pyrrha asked, probing carefully as if she were defusing landmines.

“I don’t get how anyone does it,” he admitted, though he was sure Pyrrha had no idea what he was talking about right now. “Pyrrha, do you think anyone else on the team even respects me as a leader?”

He turned to look at her, seeing her shocked and confused face first, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of what he had just said. “What? Of _course,_ Jaune! You were chosen to be the leader, that’s who you are.”

“Is it, though?” he countered. “My entire life, people have been comparing me to the Huntsmen that came before me. My sword’s seen more battles that I can even dream of. It has a legacy that I’ve been told I have to uphold.”

“But does that matter?” Pyrrha asked.

“What do you mean?” Jaune said, frowning. “Of _course_ it does. I can’t go home empty-handed and say ‘Hey, everyone! I failed!’”

Pyrrha shrugged, her vivid green eyes looking to the sky. “Just because everyone in your family has done something, that doesn’t mean you have to. My parents were merchants, and nobody else had ever been a Hunter or even used weapons beyond self-defense.”

“I guess,” he said. “I don’t know. I feel like people always want something _more_ out of me, especially when they hear I’m Jaune Arc. It’s like… I don’t know, like they have an expectation of who I am.”

“I think we’ve all struggled with that,” Pyrrha said, laughing. “A lot of people think that I’m some kind of jerk or something, because I’m famous. All I’ve really wanted is to just make friends and find people to practice my skills with.”

Jaune sighed. He was following Pyrrha’s logic, sure, it made sense, but there was always the biting doubt at the back of his mind. There was always that little voice whispering in his ear, that he wasn’t good enough, and that he’d _never_ be good enough.

“Come on,” Pyrrha said, hopping up and offering her hand to him. “Let’s do a little sparring. That’ll cheer you up for sure!”

He got up with her, taking her hand and allowing her to lift him up. Maybe she was right, maybe this _would_ help. She always warned him about what they were going to work on when they sparred, but tonight she remained uncharacteristically silent. Was she planning something? Had he finally gotten to the point where she thought she didn’t have to go easy on him? As he drew Crocea Mors and she unfurled her weapon to a spear, the two raised their shields in a ritualistic salute.

She stepped off first, charging at him with her spear raised. Easy deflection. He whipped around just in time to see her shield come for his face, knocking him off his feet for a moment as he tumbled backwards. He tightened his grip on his sword, regaining his footing and swinging wide as she approached. Pyrrha blocked his swing, tapping him on the side to show how easily she could have killed him. Time to reset. He backed off, watching Pyrrha’s spear transform into a short sword. Alright, now he had reach on her, but her shield was still a problem.

They leaped for each other almost at the same time, swords clashing and clinging in the night as another intricate dance, one he was out of step for almost constantly, ensued. Each time Jaune thought he had the upper hand, Pyrrha easily took away his advantage, “killing” him with alternating taps to his chest, sides, back, and even his neck at one point. After half an hour of constant losing, he dropped to his knees, conceding defeat for yet another round of sparring.

“God,” he moaned, out of breath and panting heavily. “This happens _every time!_”

“I know it’s frustrating, Jaune,” Pyrrha said. “But you are getting better, trust me.”

Jaune found the strength to stand back up, letting out a frustrated grunt as he did. “You don’t get it! I’ve been here for _months_ and I haven’t done anything! Every duel in Combatives, I _lose!_ It’s gotten bad enough that Professor Wellers has started rating _you guys_ lower because of me!”

She frowned, reaching out to touch his shoulder as if that’d make this better. “Jaune, you can’t give up hope. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t ready.”

“Pyrrha, don’t you understand it? Professor Wellers said it on the first day of class; if one part of the team is doing poorly, we’re _all_ doing poorly. I’m just weighing you guys down. That’s not what a leader should do. That’s not what a leader can _let_ himself do.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, her hand sliding off.

He let out a deep, long sigh, bowing his head as he stared at the ground. “I’m saying you all deserve someone better than me. I’m not cut out for this.”

“That’s not true!” Pyrrha protested. “Jaune, it’s the _first year_ you’ve been at Beacon! Do you think _I_ knew everything when I started?”

“It’s not about knowledge,” Jaune said. “I’m learning as much as I can, but nothing’s working. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do at this point, Pyrrha, I really don’t.”

He sighed again, sheathing his sword and shield, compacting them to head off to their dorm. It was clear he couldn’t get anything done by sparring tonight. Maybe sleeping the night off would do some good – after all, they had some sort of field trip tomorrow, to Forever Fall. As he went to bed, images of every lost duel played in his mind, occasionally mixed in with visages of Ruby cropping up.

What a fool he was, to think that Ruby would ever want to be with someone like him. Who would care about the Hunter who couldn’t even defend himself?

* * *

Their task in Forever Fall today was to collect a jar of red sap from trees deep within the forest, with danger abound. The Grimm were known to roam this area, and this was not a mere quick “in and out” sort of mission. It took time to collect the sap, much less an entire jar’s worth, and despite still being troubled over the thoughts that clouded his mind last night, Jaune was prepared to head out and accomplish this task. After all, it seemed fairly simple.

How wrong he had been.

Stealth was demanded here, part of their training, or so Professor Peach said. Making too much noise, or even worse, spilling any of the sap itself on them, could alert the Grimm to their position. Ursa Grimm in particular liked the smell and taste of the sap, and would relentlessly chase after the source until it either found some, or it died. As he looked out among his team, Jaune wondered how he had ever been accepted into Beacon. Ren was practically a ghost in the woods, deftly moving over fallen leaves and twigs without making even the slightest sound. Nora had managed to quell her usual boisterous nature to keep silent, and Pyrrha… well, it was never a surprise to Jaune that Pyrrha could keep quiet when stealth was necessary.

As for himself, Jaune considered it a minor miracle that nothing had detected him yet.

“We’re nearing the collection point,” Ren said quietly.

Nora and Pyrrha nodded, and Jaune continued to try to reduce his noise levels, which wasn’t much working. How were they able to do this so quietly? It didn’t make any sense to him. Either way, he could probably just get the sap and maybe take it a bit slower on the return. That would work, right? Surely it could.

They approached a large clearing, with prearranged taps for the sap to flow out of. _At least we don’t have to do that,_ Jaune thought. It didn’t look like there was anything too dangerous here, in terms of potential noise level or Grimm. Maybe they could relax some.

“We have to move quickly,” Pyrrha said, heading to a tap. “The Grimm are going to smell this for miles.”

“Got it,” Jaune said, unscrewing the top of his jar. He put the jar underneath the tap, watching the red liquid slowly drip in. God, this was going to take _forever,_ wasn’t it? Well, time to be on guard. Who knew how fast the Grimm would come here.

A low growl emanated from the treeline nearby. That’s how fast they’d come, apparently. Lightning quick. Jaune heard his team unsheathe their weapons, scanning the area for threats. More growls began to join the first one, signaling a lot more danger than they had initially been briefed on. On Jaune’s order, they formed a defensive circle, keeping their backs to one another as they kept scanning the treeline. Something was out there, waiting to attack.

Jaune saw the Ursa first. It charged out from the treeline, heading right for their circle. No doubt it planned to kill them first, and then get at the red sap they were collecting. Pyrrha reported another one heading her way, and soon their circle broke down as each member of the team began to engage targets. Ren’s two pistols popped as they fired on Grimm, and Jaune could easily hear the signature sound of Nora’s hammer swinging into Grimm skulls.

Jaune himself, though, found it was just him and his sword against an angry Ursa. It swiped at him, a blow he dodged and countered with a strike of his own. Combat raged all around him as he tanked strikes with his shield and sliced at the Grimm, to what felt like relatively little effect. He found himself being pushed back, much to his own chagrin. Eventually, the Grimm had pushed him back, almost directly to a corner. Behind the Ursa that had trapped him between a large tree and claws of certain death, Jaune could see what was happening to his team.

It was _not_ good.

His teammates were being thrown about almost like ragdolls. Ren tried and failed to use his speed to his advantage, but the Grimm he was fighting was just as fast, if not faster. Pyrrha was locked in a losing fight with an Ursa nearly twice her size. Nora was being flung about, gripping her hammer as a Grimm tried to shake her off it. As if the dark truth was bearing down on him, the sight of his friends, his_ team_ in danger, a real danger that could very much kill all of them, began to weigh in on Jaune. He felt his throat tighten up, and his heart began to race. His breathing became nothing but the shallowest divots of breath, as the Ursa in front of his reared back, unleashing a roar that seemed to shake Jaune’s very bones.

In the span of a second, however, a spark of realization came to him. Each of them – Jaune included – had been fighting their own battles, working independently of one another. But the Grimm, the Grimm were using a classic tactic he knew all too well, of divide and conquer. It only made sense that if Jaune could get his own team organized, begin a coordinated attack back, then they could easily turn the tide of this battle.

With a deep breath and closed eyes, which transformed his fear and panic into a calm tranquility, Jaune began to see the result of this battle play out in JNPR’s favor. He opened his eyes once more, not to look upon the Grimm in fear, but prepared to destroy them. The Ursa swung at him, a strike he blocked and countered with a sharp stab from his sword. This one was far from dead, but he could at least get to work on making it that way.

“Guys!” Jaune yelled. “They’re trying to divide us! If we work together we can beat them!”

“If you have any ideas, I’m open!” Ren shouted back.

“Ren, break off and circle around to Pyrrha! Nora, head to that tree and throw grenades as a distraction! Pyrrha, we’ll make our way to you!”

Nora, already excited by the idea of launching grenades, broke free of the Grimm’s grasp with Ren’s help as he retreated, firing his weapons to distract the Grimm that had a hold of her. Jaune dodged a crushing envelopment from the Grimm he was fighting in order to turn and head to Pyrrha, still locked in melee with a Grimm of her own.

“Okay,” Jaune said, raising his sword and shield as he stood next to Pyrrha. “Nora’s distracted the others. Myself, you and Ren can take down this one, then the one that was fighting me.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Pyrrha said, smiling slightly.

The three began a veritable blitz attack on the Ursa, swords and guns and shields clashing with one another and the Grimm’s hide as they wore it down. With too many attacks to follow through on, the Grimm weakened and eventually, was killed by Ren. Right on cue, the other one came for them. Another flurry of attacks, mostly aided by Jaune calling out specific angles to attack from, and another Grimm was dispatched.

By now, the Grimm had grown wise to their tactic, and came for Nora now, alone and perched on a tree. She gleefully dodged their attacks – mostly by literally launching herself from tree to tree – allowing Pyrrha, Ren and Jaune to engage straggling targets and dispatch them with ease. With Nora leading them on a wild goose chase, picking them off one by one was exceptionally easy, until the only thing that remained was the smell of red sap that mixed with spent Dust.

Jaune sighed in contentment as he rested his sword against the ground. They had done it. Jaune couldn’t help but smile as he saw the relieved faces of his teammates, because not only had they fought off more Grimm than anyone thought they could, they had done it after being broken up and disrupted. But there was something more that Jaune realized that had changed with this battle.

Jaune realized that, for the first time in four months, he had not only killed a Grimm in combat, he had helped his team find success. Neither of these had happened before except by pure flukes.

“Hey, Jaune,” Pyrrha said as Nora began rattling off her misadventures in the trees to Ren. “Are you alright?”

“I’m more than alright,” he said, laughing. “I’m doing great.”

* * *

The good news was that Jaune had managed to get the confidence – _somehow, _honestly – to tackle one problem in his life.

The bad news was that he still had no idea what in the world to do about Ruby Rose.

When trying to figure out how to not die horribly against a Grimm, it was pretty easy, honestly - just swing Crocea Mors at it until the problem went away. But this wasn’t really something he could just beat with his sword. Then again, technically he _could,_ but Jaune was pretty sure murder wasn’t the best way to a girl’s heart, unless you were a cannibal. But Jaune was not a cannibal.

Though, he had to admit, out in the field with nothing but freeze-dried fruit and crunchy granola to eat, being a cannibal sounded like a good idea. Wait, what the hell was he even thinking about? He was trying to ask Ruby Rose out on a date, not kill her and eat her heart. How had he even gotten on that track anyway?

Jaune sighed, flopping on his bed. This was useless. Why did he ever think that someone like Ruby would go for him, anyway? It wasn’t like she had seen him fight in the forest, for all he knew she still thought of him as the guy that couldn’t even hold his own in a duel. Maybe he was approaching this wrong. Maybe he was overthinking everything, which was likely.

“Something on your mind?” Ren asked, reading a book on the bed next to Jaune.

“Uh… yeah,” Jaune muttered. Maybe Ren could help him out? “Hey, listen… uh, say you liked someone and wanted to take them out somewhere. What would you do?”

Ren glanced up, surprised before thoughtfully closing his book. “Well, it depends on the person. What they like, don’t like, whether I thought they were interested. I’d ask why, but I think I know the answer.”

“W-wait, you do?” Jaune asked, freezing up.

“Relax,” Ren said, smiling slightly as he shook his head. “I don’t know _who_ it is, and truthfully, I’d rather not know. That’s between you and whoever it is. Really, though, that’s about all I can tell you.”

_Great._ Jaune sighed again, since Ren _had_ managed to help a little, but he was still at square one. Maybe a girl’s perspective could help? But who could he ask? He didn’t think Nora could help, since she’d probably interrogate him to find out it was Ruby, and then go and tell literally everyone she could find. If he knew Yang even half as well as he thought he did, she might rip every single limb he had off. He wasn’t sure Blake even _cared_ about it, and Weiss… well, she didn’t seem to pay _anyone_ much mind.

So that really only left Pyrrha.

As he got off his bed and headed to the arena, where Pyrrha always sparred with training bots at 2:45, Jaune couldn’t help but wonder if he was making a mistake ever approaching her. Maybe he would be better off risking his chances just winging it, like he always had. Though, that approach never much worked at home, so why did he think it would work here?

The sliding door to the arena hissed open as he stepped through, where he saw Pyrrha as usual winning every fight she ever took. As the last training bot fell, Pyrrha stood tall, bowing slightly as if saluting her opponents. She turned to spot him, waving as she headed over with a bottle of water in her hands.

“Hello Jaune!” she said. “What brings you here? Do you want to spar before history?”

“Uh, no,” he said, nervously laughing. “Uh, I… I actually need your help.”

Pyrrha nodded, replacing the lid on the bottle. “Alright. Are you sure you don’t want to spar, because -”

“It’s… not about combat,” he admitted sheepishly. “Um… I… want to take someone on a date, and… I thought you could help me figure out how to do it.”

“_Oh,_” Pyrrha said, her eyebrows jumping up. “Well… that’s certainly different. Well, I can _try_. Do you mind if I ask who it is?”

Jaune swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, it’s… uh… Ruby.”

A pregnant pause filled the air as Pyrrha stared back at him, appearing somewhat awestruck for a moment. Her eyes had gone wide, about as mild an expression of shock that he had come to expect from her, until finally she took a short breath, and nodded, swallowing whatever she had wanted to say. “I see,” she finally eked out. “Okay. Uh, yes, I can help you with this, Jaune. Let’s… walk and talk, alright?”

“Okay,” he said, shrugging as he began to follow her.

She led him out of the arena, then out to Beacon’s campus itself towards the large fountain that decorated the center of what was widely referred to as the Commons. The way there, she listened to him relay how he had determined Ruby was someone he wanted to get to know more intimately (her words, not his) and ideas he had for first dates, which admittedly, he had few. The most basic thing he could come up with was taking her to the local Mistral cuisine restaurant, but even he had to admit he wasn’t sure whether Ruby had a taste for it or not.

“Alright, Jaune,” Pyrrha said as she sat down on the fountain. “The good news is, I don’t think you’re overthinking anything.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

“The bad news is, I don’t think any of your ideas will really… _work_ with Ruby.”

Jaune felt his shoulders drop, crestfallen. He should have known. _Nothing_ was ever this easy for him. He sighed, nodding. “Well, that… makes sense, I guess,” he said. “So… what do you think I should do?”

Pyrrha took a deep breath, pensively avoiding his eyes. “Well… honestly, I’m not sure. I suppose if nothing else, you could play it safe with dinner and a movie. I don’t think she’d be opposed to wanting to go see the new Spruce Willis movie.”

“But you just said-”

“Right, but that’s because I don’t know all of what _she’d_ want to do,” Pyrrha explained. “After all, it’s still her choice to go out with you or not at the end of the day. So, if I were you, Jaune, I’d just go ask her and see what happens.”

He slowly closed his eyes, letting out a deep, weary sigh as he shifted his weight around, feeling his head hang low. “You know what the headline will be, right Pyrrha? ‘Local Man Lacking Confidence Asks Out Crush, is Rejected Horribly.’ Great plan.”

“Jaune, it’s not going to be as bad as you think,” she said, shaking her head. “Look at it this way, what’s the worst that can happen?”

He looked up, confused as his face scrunched up. “What do you think? She laughs at me, tells the whole school, and I have to be a social outcast living in the darkest corner of Atlas for the rest of my life.”

“I mean the worst _realistic_ thing that can happen, Jaune.”

“Uh…” he stammered. “She says no?”

“There you go!” Pyrrha said, clapping her hands. “Either it works out, or she says no and in a week, you’ll have forgotten all about it!”

Jaune blinked, sighing heavily. “I… don’t think that really helps.”

“She’s over there right now,” Pyrrha said, pointing to Ruby Rose very helpfully sitting on a bench not even twenty feet away from them, blissfully unaware of their conversation.

In a flash, all the bravery and courage Jaune had gained from the forest turned tail and ran, exactly like he wanted to right now. And yet, he found himself uneasily heading towards Ruby, able to hear her music even through her headphones. How loud did she play it? Didn’t she have tinnitus or something from that? Still, he cleared his throat, as unlikely as it was that she could hear him, to announce his presence.

She looked up, curious but smiling when she saw who it was. “Hi, Jaune!” she said, taking her headphones off. “What’s up?”

“Hey, uh, Ruby…” Jaune said nervously. “Um… I was wondering if… maybe… you’d want to go see that… Spruce Willis movie with me on Friday?”

Ruby blinked, and for a moment, Jaune was afraid that everything he had been building up in his head about her had been wrong, that she never had really been interested in him and it was some sort of sick, twisted prank. But instead, her smile grew wider, and she nodded. “Okay! That sounds like fun!”

“So… it’s a date?”

“Yeah!”

_Huh_. That wasn’t so bad after all.


	6. The Stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vytal Festival begins, bringing with it new challengers and new foes.

Preparations for the Vytal Festival were in full swing now, just a mere weekend away, and right in time too – this Friday signaled the first arrival of foreign teams to Vale, or so Weiss claimed. The streets of Vale were positively covered in decorations for the event, ranging from multicolored streamers, banners that proclaimed “Welcome to Vale” and announcements for the 40th annual Vytal Tournament, as well as massive collections of balloons specifically for the event. As Team RWBY strolled the streets, heading to the docks on Weiss’s insistence, it was like the excitement was in the very air.

“Hey, so remind me again why we’re spending Friday afternoon visiting the docks?” Yang asked.

“I’ve heard the first students from Vacuo are arriving today,” Weiss said, undeterred by the strong smell of fish that was emanating from the shore. “And, as a representative of Beacon, I feel it’s my solemn duty to welcome them _personally_ to Vale!”

“She wants to spy on them to get an upper hand in the tournament,” Blake said flatly.

“You can’t prove that!”

Far more interesting to Ruby, however, was the yellow CAUTION tape that lined a storefront, breaking up the otherwise festive shops and stalls that were on this street. But, this wasn’t any ordinary shop – this was a Dust shop. Confused, Ruby couldn’t help but head to it, drawing the rest of her team as well into the mess. “What happened here?”

The police officer looked annoyed, sighing. “Robbery. Second Dust shop to be hit this week. This place is turning into a jungle.”

“Oh jeez,” Yang muttered. “That’s terrible.”

The officer’s partner whistled from inside, drawing his attention. “They left all the money again!”

_Wait_. This sounded… _very_ similar to the robbery she had stopped before being accepted into Beacon.

“Who the hell needs this much Dust?”

The other officer shrugged. “I dunno, an army?”

“Shit, I swear to God if it’s the White Fang…”

“I’m thinking we ain’t getting paid enough for this.”

Weiss scoffed, turning away from the store and heading towards the docks. “Ugh, the _White Fang._ What an awful bunch of degenerates!”

Immediately, Blake’s brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms. “What’s _your_ problem?”

“_My_ problem? I simply don’t care for the criminally insane.”

“The White Fang’s hardly a bunch of psychopaths. They’re a collection of misguided Faunus.”

Weiss laughed, but it was a hollow, soulless laugh. “Misguided?! They want to wipe humanity off the face of the planet!”

“So then they’re _very_ misguided. Either way, they wouldn’t rob a Dust shop in the middle of downtown Vale.”

“Wait,” Ruby said, breaking in between the two of them. She could tell they were _both_ getting very irritated, _very_ quickly, and that couldn’t possibly be good for team morale. “Blake has a point. The police never caught that Torchwick guy I ran into a few months ago – maybe it was him?”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that the White Fang are a bunch of scum,” Weiss said, turning a cold eye to Blake. “Those Faunus only know how to lie, cheat and steal.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Yang said weakly.

Behind the four of them, somebody began to clap. All eyes turned to the newcomer, a girl with stark white hair, a small skull tattooed on her cheek, and a black vest that acted as armor. On her back was a rifle of some sort, and following quickly behind her were three other people – one a shorter girl with red hair, and two boys about the same height, one of whom smoked a cigarette. “Bravo,” the girl with white hair said, smiling as she looked at Weiss. “Finally, I meet _someone_ who is not afraid of the truth. The Faunus are certainly a problem we must get rid of, aren’t they?”

“Albina Fominchina!” the red-haired girl said. “You can’t _say_ things like that in Vale!”

“And why not?” Albina Fominchina said, turning to what Ruby assumed was her friend. “Vale is advanced, but they are under the delusion that humans and Faunus can _ever_ peacefully coexist. The White Fang proves this.”

“I’m sorry,” Weiss said, clearing her throat. “Uh, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Weiss, and you are?”

The white-haired girl smiled, turning back to Weiss. “I am Albina Fominchina Bezzhalostova, and this is my team. We are from Gorizont, here to fight in the Tournament.”

“We’re Team AMZN,” the red-haired girl said, adjusting some buttons on her trenchcoat. Through the opening, Ruby could just barely see two beige-colored pouches poking out. “Oh, uh, sorry. I’m Zoya Ivanovna Zvaigzne,” she said, holding out her hand. The other two members introduced themselves as Mikhail Spartakovich Zelenov and Nikolai Sergeivich Chernov, and just as quickly, Team RWBY finished introducing themselves as well.

_“Hey! You no-good Faunus!”_

Both team’s attention turned to the docks, where a Faunus with a tail deftly leaped over and above pursuing merchant seamen, blitzing through the docks and Vale’s streets faster than anyone could even think to pursue. Albina Fominchina scoffed as she watched this happen. “This is what happens when you let the Faunus degenerates do what they please,” she said, with a barely-hidden tone of disgust. “These _animals_ think the laws stop applying to them because of the War.”

“Stop calling him a degenerate!” Blake shouted. “He’s not an _animal,_ he’s a _person!_”

“Oh, my apologies,” Albina Fominchina said, but her voice was anything but apologetic. “Would you like me to stop calling this trash can a trash can? Or this lamp post a lamp post?”

“He _clearly_ broke the law,” Weiss said, folding her arms. “Give him time and I’m sure he’ll join up with those other degenerates in the White Fang.”

“You ignorant little _brat!_” Blake yelled, clenching her fists. “And _you,_ you racist asshole!” She shot daggers at Albina Fominchina, who despite her apparent firm belief that she was right, was slowly being drawn away from RWBY by her teammates.

“How _dare_ you talk to me like that!” Weiss declared. “I am your teammate!”

Blake shook her head, sighing heavily in frustration. “_You_ are a judgmental little girl.”

“What in the _world_ makes you say that?”

“The mere fact you’d slot him in with a terrorist group solely based on his species makes _you_ just as much of a scoundrel as you make him out to be!”

“Hey!” Yang shouted, standing quite literally in between the two. “Okay, look, you’re _both_ being idiots right now, alright? This is supposed to be a good time for us, not a debate about politics. So maybe let’s not get into a shouting match in the middle of town, alright?”

“Fine,” Blake said coldly.

Weiss folded her arms, clearly wanting to say something, but holding her tongue. “Fine. I suppose we can hold this until we get to… somewhere private.”

* * *

“I don’t understand why this is causing such a problem!” Weiss said. The feelings of disunity had not faded by the time they got back to their dorms, and almost as soon as the door closed, the discord came back in full force.

“That _is_ the problem!”

Weiss had begun pacing, as if she were dueling Blake and looking for a weak point. “You realize you are defending an organization that hates humanity, don’t you? The Faunus of the White Fang are pure evil!”

“There’s no such thing as pure evil!” Blake contested, her eyes wide as if she honestly couldn’t believe Weiss believed that. “Why do you think they hate humanity so much? It’s because of people like Albina, like _you,_ that force the White Fang to take such drastic measures!”

She stopped, tilting her head as she narrowed her eyes. “People like _me?_” she repeated.

“You’re discriminatory! Your entire _company_ is!”

“I’m a victim!” Weiss yelled, before sighing heavily as she leaned against the bookshelf. “You want to know _why_ I despise the White Fang? Why I don’t particularly trust the Faunus? It’s because they’ve been at war, _literal war,_ with my family for years. Since I was a child, I’ve watched family friends disappear, board members executed, and an entire train car of Dust _stolen_. Every day my father came home, _furious._ Who do you think he took it out on? It wasn’t Winter. It wasn’t Whitley. It was _me._”

Ruby felt a lump in her throat, heading over to at least attempt to comfort her friend.. “Weiss, I-”

“So _that’s_ why I despise the White Fang,” Weiss declared. “It’s because they’re a bunch of thieves, liars, and murderers!”

“Well, maybe we were just tired of being pushed around!”

Silence crashed in, as each of the four girls paused. Not one of them had missed the implication Blake had just let slip out, and as she stared at each of them in horror, Blake began to inch away. Finally, she bolted out, gone before Ruby could even get to the door to see where she had went despite her calls for Blake to come back.

* * *

Blake had retreated far, far beyond the confines of the campus, running to anywhere that provided a solace. Right now, it was somewhere in downtown Vale, ignoring the looks from the people that passed her by. Were they even looking at her? She wasn’t sure. But it felt like they were anyway. It was like everyone had seen through her disguise, and were just waiting for her to slip up again, give them a reason to treat her how she had always come to expect to be treated by humans.

“Hey,” a voice said. Blake looked up to see the same Faunus kid she had spotted earlier at the docks. What was he doing here? Why was he even talking to her?

“Uh, hey,” she said. “You… probably don’t want to talk to me.”

“Why not? We’re both hiding something.”

Her eyes went wide, and for a moment her panic went into overdrive. What did he think he was saying?

“Look, it’s okay,” he said quietly. “I have to hide too. I think you know as well as I do that Vale isn’t 100% on board with Faunus, despite what they say.”

“How did you know?” she asked, after finally finding her voice.

He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at guessing. Wanna talk somewhere quiet?”

Blake nodded slowly. Anything for an ear that would understand right now. The two headed to a park, by now left empty and alone. She realized on the way that his tail was hidden – poorly, to be frank – by his new coat, but how he’d come to get it, she wasn’t sure. Frankly, Blake didn’t _want_ to be sure.

“So, I’m Sun Wukong,” he said, leaning back on a bench.

“Blake. Uh, Blake Belladonna,” she said.

“Good to meet you,” Sun said, nodding. “You, uh, you wouldn’t happen to be-”

“Related to Ghira Belladonna? Yeah, I’m his daughter.”

Sun’s eyebrows shot up, and he blinked a few times, surprised. “Huh. Wow. Uh… I didn’t think -”

“Sun, do you know about the White Fang?” Blake asked.

He shrugged, looking at the nearby cluster of trees. “Well, sure. Bunch of holier-than-thou creeps that use force to get what they want. I don’t think there’s _any_ Faunus that doesn’t know about the White Fang. Why?”

Blake sighed, looking at him just as he decided to meet her eyes. “I used to be part of them.”

“I… yeah, that _does_ make sense. Uh… you uh, you wanna talk about it?”

“I used to think we were making a difference, that we were _helping._ It only changed when someone else took charge, and our peaceful protests were replaced by organized attacks. And… well, we got what we wanted, but it wasn’t because people changed they minds. It was because they were afraid of us. I got to the point where I asked myself what I was willing to put up with, and that wasn’t it, so I became a criminal hiding in plain sight, all with the help of a little black bow.”

“I… don’t imagine you told any of your friends this?”

“...No,” she said. “I don’t know how. One of my teammates is the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, for crying out loud. What do you think she’d do if she found out?”

Sun nodded solemnly. “Yikes, yeah. I can see why you wouldn’t then. So… what’s your plan now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think the White Fang is behind these robberies. They’ve _never_ needed this much Dust before.”

“What if they _did?_” Sun asked, shrugging. “I mean, the only way to prove they _didn’t_ do it would be to go to the place where they’d _most likely_ go if they _were_ to do it, and not find them there, right?”

Blake blinked, only partially tracking his logic, but getting the gist of it anyway. “There’s just one problem. I don’t know where that is.”

Sun’s eyes flashed, and a grin crossed his face. “Well, lucky for you, that freighter I was on? I heard them talking about unloading a huge shipment of Dust coming in from Atlas.”

“How huge?” Blake asked.

“Think ‘Schnee Dust Company’ huge.”

Well, this was it. Blake immediately set off for the docks, taking up an inconspicuous watch position with Sun. The night continued to drag on as they waited, but she wasn’t sure how long it would really take for them to find something. Maybe whoever was stealing all this Dust wouldn’t go for it right now. After all, a third robbery in a week would be crazy, right?

“See anything?” Sun asked, creeping up on the crate next to her.

“Not really. They offloaded the crates from the boat a while ago.”

Another ten minutes passed by her estimation, just long enough for her to start thinking again that she was wasting her time out here. Just as she was about to voice the pointlessness of this entire endeavor, the air began to blow all around them as lights began to shine. This was an airship’s searchlights, looking for a suitable landing spot. Blake recognized immediately the masks that adorned the men that stepped out of the airship as it dropped its ramp. _White Fang._ So, Weiss was _right._

_“Come on,”_ a White Fang member below shouted. _“Grab the tow cables!”_

“You really didn’t think they were behind it, did you?”

Blake sighed sadly, shaking her head. “No. I think deep down, I knew. I just didn’t want to be right.”

_“What’s the holdup?!”_ Wait, that was a different voice. She looked down, spotting what was clearly a human in a white jacket, his vibrant orange hair only partially concealed by a black bowler hat. Why would the White Fang work with a human? _“__We’re not exactly the most inconspicuous thieves here, so why don’t you animals pick the pace up a little?”_

Yeah, there was _no way_ the White Fang would work with a guy like this. Something was strange. Ignoring Sun’s pleas for restraint, Blake unsheathed Gambol Shroud in its katana form, heading down and sneaking around containers. Silently, she made her way to the human, who was berating a White Fang member for something. Unseen, she headed right up to him, holding her blade against his throat.

“What the -” he muttered. “Oh for fuck’s-”

“Nobody move!” Blake shouted. Immediately, the other White Fang members raised their rifles and held up swords, but with their leader at Blake’s blade, not one of them dared to move towards her.

“Okay,” the leader said. “Take it easy, little lady…”

She unfurled her bow as the White Fang approached, revealing her true nature to them. This caused them to pause, unsure how to proceed. “Brothers of the White Fang!” Blake called. “Why are you aiding this scum?!”

In response, though, the human _laughed._ “Oh, kid, didn’t you get the memo?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The White Fang and I, we’re going in on a little joint business venture!’

“Tell me what it is, or I’ll put an end to your little operation.”

He laughed again. “I wouldn’t exactly call it _little._”

The air began to whip around again, and as Blake looked up, she saw two more airships heading in. With another chuckle, the human clicked on something, causing an explosion that threw her back towards a crate. Dazed, she looked up just in time to see he had leveled his cane at her, and was firing more shots as he slowly advanced. Time to start dodging – Blake ducked and rolled in between his attacks, each shot destroying more cargo behind her.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” he taunted. Blake heard someone running on steel, but it wasn’t a White Fang member. No, it was… Sun? Why was Sun getting involved in this fight?

“Leave her alone!” Sun shouted.

“You’re not the brightest banana in the bunch, are you?” the human asked. _God,_ he was irritating. What Blake wouldn’t give to break his jaw.

The White Fang was distracted trying to attack Sun, which he was easily blocking with his staff. Time for her to move in. The human was open, and Blake took the opportunity to charge in and began attacking. He deflected each strike with an inhuman speed that she couldn’t get a read on. Sun, meanwhile, apparently having dealt with the White Fang goons sent after him, now joined in with a pair of nunchucks. Even with a secondary attacker, the human was able to easily dodge and parry every single blow. All Blake could figure to do was keep hammering him – he would have to tire _eventually._

She was right. A split-second window allowed her to get a good slash in, which sent the human flying back into another container. He cracked his neck as he recovered, looking up. What did he see? She found out a second later – he had fired at a crane’s supports, sending a crate crashing down to them. Blake dodged out of the way, but Sun had leaped forward – right into the human’s cane. She tried to run around and get an angle, but by the time she had reached, his finger was already on the trigger.

“Hey!”

Blake turned to the sound of Ruby’s voice. How the hell had she even tracked them here? And there was… Weiss? And Yang? They _all_ had found her here? Well, then again, explosions going off at the docks would draw attention. It was a wonder the police weren’t here by now.

“Well, hello there, Red!” the human said, waving to her. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Ruby?! What are you _doing_ here?!”

Ruby turned to Blake, and this split-second diversion allowed the human to fire a shot at Ruby, but Yang and Weiss spotted it, literally shoving her out of the way. With an explosion of Dust and a loud cheer, Yang headed down after rescuing her sister from certain doom, linking up with Blake to resume an assault on the human.

He began to back off, before turning and running entirely as the airships broke away, opting to retreat rather than stick around what must have been a compromised area. The human fired shots as he ran, knowing he was outmatched. However, he headed to the open ramp of a waiting airship, muttering something under his breath as his getaway took off, and just like that, the area was calm once more. The only evidence the White Fang had ever been here were the weapons they left, and the stores of wrecked weapons.

“Alright!” Weiss shouted as the tension calmed down. “Blake!”

“Uh, hey Weiss,” she said weakly. God, how could she even begin to describe this.

“Do you have _any idea_ how long we’ve been looking for you?!”

Blake blinked, unsure why _this_ was the first question on Weiss’s mind. “Uh… not… really. Why?”

“_Six__ hours!_” Weiss said, frowning. “And in those six hours, I’ve had a _lot_ of time to think about this. You said _we_ earlier when talking about the White Fang.”

“It’s not what you think,” Blake said, hastily defending herself. “I want you to know I’m not associated with them anymore. I left _years_ ago, when-”

“Stop!” Weiss declared, folding her arms. “I don’t care.”

Blake blinked. Was… was she serious? “You… don’t care?”

“You said you’re not one of them anymore, right?”

“N-no, I haven’t since I was youn-”

“Stop talking! I don’t want to hear it,” Weiss admonished. “Look. I know what I said back at the dorms, and that… that doesn’t make what happened _right._ But… I was thinking about the things that weird girl from Gorizont was saying and… that’s not me. I don’t hate the Faunus, Blake. I hate the White Fang. I’m… _trying_ to overcome my own prejudices about it, and I won’t be perfect. But I’ll try to be better.”

“I…” Blake muttered, trying to come to terms herself with this revelation. It seemed awful quickly that Weiss was able to change her attitude about this so quickly, but… well, she _did_ say she was going to try.

Weiss relaxed, a soft smile replacing the frown she wore just a moment ago. “Just… next time something big like this comes up, promise me you’ll tell your _team_ and not some… someone else.”

Blake honestly couldn’t help herself. She had never thought that many people, let alone Weiss Schnee of all people, would have accepted her this quickly after being straight-up _lied_ to. She wiped a tear from her eye, determined not to let too many people see. “Of course.”


	7. A Minor Hiccup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake spearheads the effort to understand the Roman-White Fang connection.

Truth be told, the fight at the docks had not toned down the disquiet in Blake’s mind. Something was wrong, between the White Fang working with a human that she now knew to be Roman Torchwick, and the general unease that they were amassing so much Dust. She knew their methods well – any half-decent White Fang member could make a bomb out of fire Dust that could level half a block, and if they were taking away entire _crates_ of it, then what where they planning?

“Blake!” Weiss asked as they headed into their dorm one day, in between classes. “Lately you’ve been antisocial, quiet, and moody! You made a promise to us, to _me,_ that you’d let us know if something’s wrong! So, _what’s wrong?_”

Well, it must have been bad enough that her team was noticing. Blake sighed, folding her arms. It was going to go like this, then, wasn’t it? “I just don’t get how everyone can be so calm.”

“Are you still thinking about Romeo?” Yang asked.

“Roman,” Weiss corrected.

“Torchwick, the White Fang, _all_ of it!” Blake said, shaking her head. “Something _big_ is happening and we’re just… sitting around doing nothing!”

Yang shrugged, taking a seat on her bed. “Headmaster Ozpin told us not to worry. Besides, between the police and the Huntsmen, I’m sure they can handle it.”

“Well, I’m _not_! They don’t know the White Fang like I do!”

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m sure between the three of you, you’re all certain think you’re ready to go out and apprehend these ne’er-do-wells!”

“Uh, these who?”

“But, _once again,_ let me be the voice of reason. We’re _students!_ We’re not ready to handle this!”

Blake sighed, furrowing her brow. “And we may never _be_ ready! Our enemies aren’t going to just sit around and wait for graduation to strike! They’re out there, _somewhere,_ planning their next move and none of us know what it is! It’s coming, whether we’re ready or not!”

“She has a point, though,” Ruby said. “Look, I don’t care – even if it means postponing another date with Jaune, I’m ready to do this! We need a plan!”

“Oh, of _course,_” Weiss said. “We can’t get in the way of date night, can we?”

“Oh, wait! I forgot my game at the library! I’ll be right back!”

As Ruby rushed out the door, Weiss sighed, shaking her head. “We’re doomed.”

Blake laughed, heading to the door as well. She could hear Ruby talking to someone, but the other voices were unfamiliar. She peeked around the corner to see Ruby was talking to three people in the signature Haven Academy uniform – they must have been here for the festival, but why were they in the student dorms? And why was that Albina girl with them? She wasn’t from Haven. Weird. Blake shrugged as she headed back inside.

“What was that about?” Yang asked.

“I dunno,” Blake replied. “Uh, just some students from Haven, they looked lost.”

Weiss arched an eyebrow. “_Really_ lost, apparently. Why were they in here?”

“Maybe that Albina girl was showing them around or something? But I don’t know why, she doesn’t go here.”

“Huh,” Yang said. “Yeah, that _is_ weird. Well, maybe they were all looking around together or something?”

Blake shrugged. Whatever, they didn’t have much time to waste on some lost students from Haven and Gorizont. After only a few minutes, Ruby had returned, and the plan for tomorrow’s action was set in motion – Yang would head to talk to “an old friend” on the shady side of Vale who knew _everything _that happened in Vale’s underworld. Blake would infiltrate a White Fang meeting to find out what they were planning. Meanwhile, Weiss and Ruby would head to the Continental Communications Tower to check Schnee company records for other Dust robberies or inconsistencies. In order to blend in, Blake had changed out of her usual garb into a purple, black and white sweatervest combo, posing more as a young student trying to find out about the White Fang rather than a Huntress in training.

* * *

Finding the White Fang wasn’t difficult. Blake knew exactly how they worked, the sort of people to talk to, the hidden signs to look for. Their meeting was full of people with masks, with one handed to her as she stepped in. “It’s okay, sister,” the man handing out masks said to her. “You can be who you are here.”

Blake nodded, undoing her bow as she blended in further, donning the mask like she had so long ago. Putting on the mask, it was like going back to an old song that had been abandoned, full of bad memories that Blake would much rather forget about. She used to delude herself into thinking she was helping, when she and Adam were running their own gang of misfits and criminals. How stupid she was back then.

The faction meeting was starting. One of the local cell leaders gave a long speech about how their cause was just, how the humans would never see them as equals until they proved it and made them listen. It was all the same propaganda Blake had heard before, but still she cheered nd booed when needed – after all, it didn’t help to infiltrate if she stuck out.

“There is but one more thing we have up our sleeves, brothers and sisters,” the leader proclaimed. “Allow me to introduce Roman Torchwick!”

Immediately, boos enveloped the meeting room as the same Roman she had fought at the docks walked out on stage, indifferent to the overwhelmingly negative reception he got. He smirked, almost as if he had expected it.

“I know, I know,” he said, trying to calm the crowd. “But there is good news! I know the idea of working with me isn’t popular, but the White Fang and my friends have the same common enemy – the government and police of Vale! These corrupt institutions work to oppress both of us daily, and individually, we can do little. But together, _together_ we are a force to be reckoned with, one that can topple this false government! And that’ll be even easier to do with _this._”

A curtain was thrown open, revealing a stolen Atlesian mech. Where had he even _gotten_ this? Was this what he needed all that Dust for? To power this thing?

“Consider this a gift, a token of my appreciation to my Faunus brethren who fight the same war I wage,” Roman said. “I’m sure you can all see victory – it’s right here, by my side.”

The meeting broke afterwards, with other White Fang members going around as people began to disperse, offering benefits for joining. The low murmur of the crowd told Blake all she needed to know – a _lot_ of them were impressed by the mech.

“What about you?” someone asked her as she left. “Will you join the White Fang in our grand crusade?”

“I… I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how much I like that human. Give me a day or two, and I’ll think about it.” _God,_ she had never been this nervous in all her life. How could she just so easily turn this switch on?

“That’s fair,” the White Fang member said, nodding. “Well, you know where to find us.”

* * *

Yang stretched as she got off her bike, approaching Junior’s nightclub. This guy had caused her trouble before, mostly when she was looking for information before. Tonight, he owed her a drink, _and_ more information. The first was probably going to be a lot easier to get than the other, but given how he acted _last_ time she headed in here, maybe trying to get both out of him was going to be like pulling teeth.

The electronic music boomed as she headed inside, with each bass hit practically shaking her bones. Was this how it was every night? Why’d anyone ever bother to come in? Though, granted, this wasn’t really Yang’s usual style of music, but whatever. The music skipped a beat as Junior’s henchmen saw she had arrived, and as if she was presenting herself, Yang swept her arms wide. “Guess who’s back?!”

Immediately, a dozen guns were set upon her, as Junior himself stomped down. “Okay! No! Stop! Nobody shoot! Blondie, you’re _here!_ ...why?”

“_You_ still owe me a drink,” Yang said, pointing to him. “And I want some information.”

He sighed, jerking his head towards the bar. “Fine. Let’s have a little _chat._”

Yang smirked, following him even as the confused dancers and stern-looking henchmen looked on. Good, so she _wouldn’t_ have to knock him around the place tonight. At least then she wouldn’t get her new outfit dirty.

He stood behind the bar, shooing away one of his regular bartenders as he poured her a drink, sliding it over with barely-concealed anger on his face. “Alright, Blondie,” he said. “What do you want?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yang said, sipping the cocktail. “Roman Torchwick. You know the guy?”

“Is that it?” Junior asked, arching an eyebrow. “Not much of a request. Yeah, I know him. Why?”

“You know what he’s planning? I know he’s been stealing Dust all month, so what’s he doing with it?”

Junior shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything else?”

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know?” Yang asked, furrowing her brow. “I thought you knew everything there was to know about the underworld.”

“Look, best I have is he hired out some of my guys for a job. I haven’t seen him since the _last_ time you came in here. He paid up front, I lent him my men, and none of them ever came back, so I’m not too keen to go looking for the guy.”

Yang sighed, disappointed both with the drink and Junior’s info. “So, no idea what he’s planning, then?”

Junior scoffed. “Like I said. I don’t know, I don’t care. He’s not doing anything to fuck with _my_ business, so I don’t fuck with his. That good enough for you?”

“I suppose,” Yang said, shrugging as she put down the drink, leaving only two Lien as a tip. “Thanks for the info, buddy. I’ll hit you up if I need anything else.”

“You come back here, Blondie, and I’ll have your head on a plate.”

“Promise? I’d kill for a good fight.”

Junior narrowed his eyes at her, growling. _“Promise.”_

Yang flashed a grin and a thumbs up as she headed out and back to her bike, speeding to campus. Maybe the rest of the team was having more luck.

* * *

Weiss honestly wasn’t sure where Ruby had run off to. She had been distracted by something as they headed into the CCT, and the less that she had to deal with Ruby’s obnoxious nature as she made a rather sensitive call back home, the better. By the time Weiss had confirmed her identity and headed to the terminal in order to be connected to the company’s headquarters, she had almost prepared herself for the call.

Almost.

Calling home was never pleasant. She had done it only a few times since arriving at Beacon – mostly because Father insisted on knowing why in the world she had chosen Beacon over Atlas – and every time, it was the same. A long lecture that told her to be aware of the dangers of Vale, reminders to ensure she was properly upholding the family name, and a cross-examination of nearly every activity on the family credit card. To say she had long since grown tired of having every aspect of her life scrutinized, even when miles from home, was an understatement at the best.

“Thank you for calling the Atlas – Oh! Miss Schnee!” the operator on the other side was a brunette-haired woman, clearly surprised to have been receiving a call from her. “Good afternoon! Would you like me to patch you through to your father? I think your sister Winter might be here as well.”

“No, thank you,” Weiss said, smiling as politely as she could. “I was actually wondering if you could find some files for me. I’ve compiled a short list.” She placed her Scroll into a slot on the terminal’s keyboard, which transmitted data to the operator.

“I see,’ she said, looking upon it curiously. “If you don’t mind, may I ask what this is for?”

“School project,” Weiss said, without even skipping a beat. She almost regretted how naturally lying came to her.

At this, the operator’s face became worrisome. “There are… some rather sensitive documents on here, Miss Schnee. I would have to pass this by your father for appro-”

“Well, if _that’s_ the case,” Weiss said, replacing her regimented smile with a frown, “then you _may_ patch me through to my father. I would be more than happy to explain to him that you are impeding my education.”

“Th-that shouldn’t be necessary!” the operator protested. _Perfect._ “I’ll transfer it immediately!”

“Wonderful,” Weiss said, imitating a pleased smile. “That’ll be all, then.”

“Um, Miss Schnee, you… won’t bring this up to your father at all, will you?”

Weiss smirked, shaking her head. “No, I won’t be. I also would prefer if you kept this under wraps, if possible.”

“Of course, Miss Schnee! Have a wonderful day!”

Just as the screen went blank, Weiss checked her Scroll. Just as she had asked for, all the files had now appeared. All that was left was to head back with her team – after finding Ruby, of course – and see what they could find.

* * *

“Okay!” Blake said, sighing as she tossed down a pile of notes she had compiled. “Awesome! Nothing! This is just… _great!_”

“It… _really_ doesn’t add up to a whole lot,” Yang muttered.

They must have spent _hours_ poring over this stuff in between classes for the past two days. There were hardly any inconsistencies in the Schnee company records – and if there were any, they weren’t in the files Weiss had gotten. Yang’s lead had similarly gone nowhere. And other than the mech, Blake couldn’t find a compelling reason why the White Fang would _ever_ work with a human like Roman Torchwick. Not one part of it made any _sense_ to her.

But, maybe what irritated Blake far more than the lack of progress, was seeing that nobody else on the team seemed to _care._ Ruby was perpetually half-asleep or not paying attention. Weiss had moved on to planning tomorrow’s celebratory dance, of all things, and Yang… it felt like Yang was only half-interested, helping Blake out and listening to her, but not _working._ Hadn’t they agreed to take this on as a team?

It seemed like right now, Blake was the only one who cared anymore about stopping him. She had forgone sleep in order to work out theories and scrutinize every detail of the Schnee records, as if going over them a hundred times would give her something new to learn. She would be first to admit it was affecting her classwork, but taking down Roman Torchwick and whatever he was planning was far, _far_ more important than listening to their Combatives professor go on about whatever bizarre story he had drunk up last weekend.

She had scarcely noticed that Ruby and Weiss had disappeared, and Yang was standing in front of her, looking at Blake with worried eyes. “You and I have to talk,” she said.

“Yang,” Blake said calmly. “If you’re going to tell me to stop, you may as well save your breath.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Yang said, folding her arms and looking down on her. “I want you to slow down.”

Blake sighed, resting her forehead on her hand. “I _don’t_ have the luxury of slowing down.”

“It’s _not_ a luxury; it’s a necessity,” Yang argued.

“The ‘necessity’ is stopping Torchwick!”

“And we’re _going to,”_ Yang said. “But first you have to listen to what I have to say.”

Blake sighed again, feeling herself relax, if at least a little. “Fine.”

“So… you know we grew up in Patch, it’s this… tiny little island outside of Vale. Our parents were Huntsmen, Dad taught at Signal, and Mom took on missions all across the kingdom.” Yang smiled, clearly remembering her mother fondly. “Her name was Summer Rose, and she was like… Super-Mom, baker of cookies and slayer of giant monsters.”

But, just as quickly as Yang’s smile crossed her face, she looked down, saddened. “And then… one day she left on a mission, and never came back. It was tough. Ruby was really torn up, but I think she was still too young to really _get_ what was going on, you know? And my dad just… shut down. I learned why pretty quickly – she wasn’t the first love he had lost, she was the _second._” Yang swallowed hard, apparently trying to figure out how to word it. “The first was my mom, my _actual_ mom.”

Blake blinked, trying to reconcile this information. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense, between the names the sisters clearly didn’t share and only the vague similarities between them.

“He wouldn’t tell me everything,” Yang said. “But I learned that the two of them had been on a team with Summer and my uncle Qrow, and that she’d left me with him right after I was born. Nobody’s seen her since.”

“Why would she leave you?” Blake found herself asking, her mouth like cotton. What a horrible fate to go through, to think somebody was your mother for so long only to find out the truth like _that._

Yang sighed, shrugging. “I don’t know. I ask myself that same question every day. I was so obsessed with finding her after Mom went on her last mission that I put Ruby in a wagon one day, wheeled her out to God-knows where, and we were almost killed by Grimm. The only thing that saved us was Qrow. My stubbornness should have gotten us _killed._”

“Yang,” Blake said, having now understood where Yang’s story was going. “I’m _really sorry_ that this happened to you, and I understand what you’re trying to tell me, but this is different. I’m not a child, and this isn’t just a search for answers! I can’t just-”

“I _told_ you!” Yang yelled, her eyes suddenly red. This always happened when she activated her Semblance, knowingly or not. “I’m not telling you to stop! I haven’t! I _still_ want to know why my mother left me, but I don’t let that search control me, I don’t let it be the only thing I am! Listen to me, we’re going to find the answers you’re looking for, Blake, but if we destroy ourselves doing it, what good are we?”

“You don’t understand!” Blake shouted back. “I’m the only one who can do this!”

“No, _you_ don’t understand,” Yang said. “If Roman Torchwick came through that door right now, what would you do?”

“I’d fight him!”

Before she could even process it, Yang had shoved her to the ground. “You’d _lose!”_ she yelled. This angry, Yang’s shove was ten times stronger than it usually ever was. Most times, this was only because she had taken a beating and channeled it into strength – but it seemed more like she was channeling her own outrage.

“I can stop him!” Blake said, wearily getting up and trying to shove Yang.

However, Yang refused to budge, acting more like a mountain than her friend. Yang’s red eyes disappeared as she blinked slowly changing back to her usual lilac. “You can’t even stop me,” she said sadly. Yang sighed, wrapping Blake in a hug that, to be frank, surprised the hell out of her. “I’m not asking you to stop. Just, _please,_ for my sanity and yours, get some rest. We’re all worried about you, Blake. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Blake paused, blinking. She hadn’t expected this, and the fact she hadn’t was throwing her off balance – not just physically, but mentally as well. Eventually, she sighed and returned the hug, finding herself collapsing into it.

“Good?” Yang asked.

“Good.”

“Awesome,” Yang said, breaking off and heading out. “And hey, if you feel like coming out tomorrow, I’ll save you a dance.”


	8. Extracurricular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance comes. Team RWBY holds strategy sessions for the upcoming Vytal Tournament.

Ruby legitimately had no idea how Weiss could _fight_ in heels, much less wear them. It seemed like every step she took with these things would knock her off balance, and Ruby hated that feeling. Though, granted, having Jaune escort her was helping, even if the heels were nearly impossible to walk in. The ballroom was decorated wonderfully as they headed in, filled with balloons, streamers, and the immaculate other decorations that she had come to expect from not just Beacon, but any event associated with the Vytal Festival.

“You guys look great,” Yang said, nodding in approval at the host’s stand.

“Thanks!” Ruby said, as Jaune stammered out a response. “Is Blake coming?”

Yang smiled, looking past her. “I told you she would.”

Ruby and Jaune turned to see Blake had now entered, her hands folded in front of her as she stood just outside the ballroom with a purple dress on, accented by a black belt and a sheer top that covered her shoulders. “H-hey,” Blake said weakly.

“You came!” Ruby said, tempted to run over but knowing she’d probably trip if she did. “So, uh, what do we do now?”

“Just have fun!” Yang said. “Hey, Blackwell! Take the host’s stand for me!”

“Does that mean I can change out of these heels and into my hood now?”

Jaune laughed, gently nudging Ruby to the dance floor as Blake and Yang headed over. “Come on, Ruby, one dance? At least? We’re _both_ kind of in a bad spot here.”

“Okay…” Ruby said, allowing Jaune to take the lead. It wasn’t like she could move any faster herself. She didn’t mind going to parties, but she _hated_ dancing. It was even worse when it was slow, boring music like this. Regardless, she settled into prime slow-dancing position, resting her hand on Jaune’s shoulder as he lightly held her other hand. As they slowly began to sway in time with the music, it was like the world had been blocked out for a while, and she could finally relax.

“Hey, uh, fair warning,” Jaune said. “Sorry if I step on your feet.”

“You should be worried about _me!_” Ruby said. “I can barely walk in these things.”

“No, _really,_” Jaune said. “I have two left feet, can’t dance to save my life.”

Ruby looked up at him, smiling. It felt _right_ to be here with him right now, even if nothing else made much sense. “That’s okay,” she said. “We can both be terrible at dancing together.”

He smiled back, and they headed back to the rhythm of dancing, only partially interrupted by one of them stepping on the other’s foot. But, even then, it was still fun, and as the song progressed, Ruby found herself leaning her head against Jaune’s chest.

“Hey, Jaune?” Ruby asked quietly as one song faded away, soon replaced by another.

Jaune didn’t even skip a beat, even if he did drag his foot across Ruby’s shoes. “Yeah?”

“You can be a little closer, you know,” she said, softly laughing. “I think the whole school knows we’re dating.”

“Sorry,” Jaune said sheepishly. “I… just wanted to be respectful of you, you know? That, and Yang’s watching.”

Ruby glanced over, and saw Jaune’s claim was true. Despite dancing with Blake, Yang was staring at Jaune and practically shooting daggers at him. _God,_ she thought she had talked to Yang about this. In defiance of Yang and her clear disapproval, Ruby brought herself closer to Jaune. “Jaune, are we like… a thing?”

“Huh?” he asked.

“I mean, we’ve been dating for a few months, and… I don’t know, is it fair if I call you my boyfriend?”

Jaune paused, silently moving in time with the song. “Uh… I… think so? Does that mean I can call you my girlfriend?”

“I think so!” Ruby said, smiling.

“Alright then,” Jaune said, as Ruby pulled back and looked at him. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Ruby immediately felt her cheeks heat up. Had… had he really asked that? He had never asked before on their dates, so why was tonight different? “Uh… I mean, I’m not opposed to it, but… why are you asking?”

“I mean, we’ve always only kissed on dates, and only ever outside your dorm,” Jaune explained, shrugging. “This is… a _lot_ more public.”

“That makes sense,” Ruby said, nervously laughing. “Well, um… I don’t mind.”

With an equally nervous laugh, Jaune smiled, before leaning in for a kiss. Ruby eagerly headed into it, closing her eyes just as Jaune’s lips locked with her own. She wished she could say it was magical, like somehow kissing Jaune in public would be a life-changing event, but more than anything it just confirmed what she already knew – she had taken a good risk by going out with Jaune, and tonight, right here, right now, she didn’t care who saw. She didn’t care if Yang still rabidly protected her like they were kids. She didn’t care about anything other than dancing terribly with her boyfriend, ignorant to the problems and concerns of the world.

* * *

“Will you _please_ stop staring at Ruby?” Blake asked, feeling like she was dancing more with a broom than another person.

“But he fucking _kissed_ her!” Yang hissed. “Right in public! Who does he think he is?!”

She sighed, desperately trying to sway Yang away from being able to see her sister. “I don’t know, probably her boyfriend? It’s not like this is the first time they’ve done this.”

Immediately, Yang began to sputter and babble uselessly, becoming more and more incoherent with the passing minute. “_**What?!**_”

Finally, some actual _words_ out of that soup. “Yang, come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed. Are you honestly that blind?”

Yang growled in response, before sighing heavily as her line of sight was finally broken. “Alright, I… _guess_ it’s okay.”

“You look really nice, by the way,” Blake said, smiling at Yang.

“Aw, thanks!” Yang said, brightening up. “You look nice, too.”

The two settled into dancing, _actual_ dancing this time, and not just Blake swaying in place while Yang tried to murder her sister’s boyfriend with her eyes alone. It had been a long time since she had ever had the pleasure of dancing with someone who actually seemed to care, much less slow dancing. She dared to inch closer, which Yang either didn’t mind or didn’t care about, and together they danced for another song. By now, Yang had gotten tired of dancing and decided to stalk her sister and Jaune a little bit more, which Blake took the time to head over to the punch table.

Or, at least, she _would_ have if Weiss hadn’t immediately taken up Yang’s former position. The surprise of Weiss, of all people, dancing with her caught Blake off-guard, and for a few moments she simply stood there as Weiss began to dance.

“Well?” Weiss said, frowning. “Are you going to dance or what?”

“Uh, I-uh,” Blake stammered. “Why are you-?”

“Dancing with you? Because we need to talk.”

Blake blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what in the world Weiss wanted to talk about – at the dance, no less. “Uh, okay. What about?”

“I wanted you to know that I’m honestly sorry about the things I said the other week,” Weiss said quietly.

“Uh, okay,” Blake replied, still wondering where this was going. “Um, I kind of already knew that.”

Weiss sighed, rolling her eyes. “Of _course!_ But I had never apologized, and I wanted to fix that.”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

She blinked, apparently caught off-guard by Blake’s question. “Well… that depends on what it is.”

“Did you mean it when you said you don’t care about me being part of the White Fang?”

“Well…” Weiss said, nervously looking out among the crowd. Blake knew Weiss’s sister Winter was here, having recently arrived to observe Atlas Academy students in the upcoming tournament. “I’m trying, I really am. But… it’s going to be hard. I have to regiment and prune every part of my life. I can’t be seen dancing with the wrong person, let alone a Faunus. If it got out I might be gay…”

“So, if you have to do that,” Blake said, still wondering why Weiss had her hand on her shoulder. “Why are you dancing with a gay Faunus?”

Weiss’s face immediately turned beet red, and Blake could feel her pushing away as if she was afraid “the gay” would infect her. “Th-that’s not important!” Weiss protested. “Look, just know that even if I say things, I’m working on it, alright? I’m trying to be better, but… it’s going to take time. I’m sure you have your _own_ biases to work on, after all.”

“No, I get it,” Blake said, shrugging. “As long as you don’t call us degenerates, or animals, then you’re… well, I don’t want to say _fine,_ but…”

“As long as we’re on the same page,” Weiss said, smiling. Before long, her smile dropped, and she wriggled her way out of Blake’s grip. “Alright, we’re done dancing. Winter’s watching me.”

Just as quickly as Weiss had come in, she had left, disappearing before Blake could even think to say anything. She stood alone on the dance floor, wondering why Weiss had decided to pick the dance of all things to come talk to her. As Blake headed off, finally going to the punch, she couldn’t help but wonder if Weiss was truly seriously about it. Even in Vale, a place that was supposed to be welcoming and open to Faunus, Blake knew not everyone believed in it.

Immediately she remembered the speech that Professor Wellers had given one day. He had said that Sun Tzu had invented fighting – which was not correct – and that he perfected it so that no living man could best him in combat – which also was not correct. Professor Wellers further claimed that Sun Tzu then went around the world, fighting everyone he could and using his fight money to buy two of every Faunus on earth, herded them onto a boat, and then “beat the crap out of every single one.” This, he postulated, was why any time a bunch of Faunus were together in one place, it was called a zoo – which was so impossibly, offensively _wrong_, Blake had no idea where to even _begin_ with hoping to correct him.

Maybe she was living in a pipe dream, hoping that anyone would ever accept her as equal. She lived in jealousy of Velvet, who she saw as unafraid to show her true nature. She could have hidden her Faunus ears with any number of options, but instead she remained unafraid. Though, Blake believed having Coco by her side didn’t hurt. She had seen many times how someone would unabashedly sneer at Velvet, or say near anything offensive to her, and in a flash Coco would be right there, threatening to unleash her minigun on them.

Blake had honestly spent so long sitting near the punch with a cup in her hand, drinking alone, that she hadn’t noticed one of the people from that Mistral team near her. She had never learned the girl’s name, but she looked older – must have been a year or two ahead of her. She stood next to Blake, in a long black dress with elbow-length silk gloves, flipping back a rogue lock of hair off her shoulder. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she said. “I’m Cinder, from Haven.”

“Oh, uh, h-hi,” Blake said, nodding. “I’m Blake. I go to Beacon.”

“Well met,” Cinder said, smiling. “Who do you think will win the tournament this year?”

Blake blinked, unsure what to say. She always wanted to root for Beacon, but was that considered boastful? “Uh… I’d like to say Beacon,” she said.

“Hmm,” Cinder said, curiously looking over her. “I suppose we’ll see. May the best team, and school, win.”

Without another word, Cinder left, dancing with someone she assumed was one of her teammates, given the immediate familiarity and conversation they settled into. Blake couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was _something_ about Cinder that gave her pause. It was as if she had just met what felt like a veritable ball of negative energy that unnerved her to her very core.

“Hey,” Yang said, apparently have finishing dancing with someone else. “You okay? You look kinda worried.”

“Uh, yeah,” Blake said. “Um, I think I’m gonna go back to the dorms. I’m… I dunno, I don’t feel too hot right now.”

Yang looked concerned, but nodded anyway. “Alright, well, I hope you feel better. Have a good night, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Blake said, smiling. “Tell Ruby and Weiss I said bye, alright? You guys have fun.”

“You know we will,” Yang said, shooting finger guns at her.

* * *

Two days after the dance, the first rounds of the tournament were set to begin. Weiss had spent this time poring over every possible bit of information she had cajoled, intimidated, and straight-up spied out of people to help Ruby develop strategies for them heading into the tournament. By now, daily strategy and tactics meetings run by Weiss were nearly mandatory, hours-long events that mostly consisted of what Weiss generously termed “intel reports” that reflected whatever she had learned in the past twelve hours.

“So,” Weiss said, standing in front of a large board that had the names and formal class photos of nearly every team from Atlas. “Pursuant to my last report, I still maintain that we need to be wary of Team FNKI. Flynt’s Semblance is incredibly dangerous, but I believe that with Blake’s shadow clones and Ruby’s speed, as well as my glyphs, we can easily counter their strategies.”

“This is the same as the last two meetings,” Yang complained. “Look, we all already know each others Semblances and abilities, why do we need to go over this every time?”

Weiss furrowed her brow, staring at Yang as if she had three heads. “This sort of information should _always_ be repeated! We need to know innately all of our own strengths and weaknesses if we want to succeed!”

“Okay, I get the dedication, but still Weiss,” Yang said, folding her arms. “We’ve had these meetings every day, practically every other hour for the past two days. Like, what do you expect to change? We know almost everything about the other teams.”

“Well,” Ruby said, shrugging. “Not _all_ of them. We don’t know everything about the Gorizont teams.”

Weiss nodded, glaring at Yang as she gestured to Ruby. “You see? They’ve been _incredibly_ tight-lipped since getting here! All my usual methods don’t work on these Gorizont people!”

“Maybe a little surprise isn’t bad,” Blake suggested. “I mean, it’s not like we’ll know everything about all our enemies.”

“But it’s useful practice!” Weiss insisted. “Look, we can win this! We have the strength and the skill to do this!”

Yang arched an eyebrow, looking at her skeptically. “Weren’t you saying like, a week ago that we weren’t ready to take on the White Fang and Roman?”

“_This is different!”_ Weiss shouted. “This is a tournament, a time to practice all we’ve been learning this semester! In two years, we can sweep it again and take home the gold for Beacon! We can do it this year too!”

Ruby cleared her throat, apparently more willing to just turn the conversation back to strategy. “So, what about Cinder’s team? What do we know about them?”

“Ugh,” Weiss muttered. “Even less than the Gorizont teams, if that’s even possible. I haven’t seen any of them away from one another. It’s like they travel in a pack.”

“Maybe they do,” Yang said, shrugging. “I mean, what else is there to learn? We can just go out on round 1 and wreck face. It’s what we always do.”

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes. “This is _much_ different from fighting Grimm. These are real, thinking enemies, not just mindless Grimm that only know how to attack and kill.”

“I guess,” Yang said. “I dunno, maybe we’re overthinking it? Like, how’s about this: we go into sparring tomorrow, yeah, fight some of these guys, and then see where it goes from there? A lot of them show up for sparring anyway.”

Weiss turned back to her board, blinking as she stared at it. It was like she was seeing every possible alignment fall in place in front of her, no doubt working through whatever bizarre strategy she had cooked up this time. “That… makes a lot of sense, actually,” she finally said. “Okay. We can do that. Who wants to have the honors?”

“Why not have Yang do it?” Ruby suggested. “Out of all of us, her Semblance and Aura is strongest. She can take the hits she’ll be going through.”

“Okay, sure,” Yang said. “I’d like to give some of these uppity clowns a real Vale welcome.”

“It wouldn’t do well to get cocky,” Weiss reminded her. “Focus on sparring with the people from Gorizont, if you can. If not, then those from Mistral. I know enough about Atlas to know full well what they’re capable of, and how they think in combat.”

Yang nodded, already exciting for the fighting tomorrow. She waved off her team, electing to go to bed early. May as well get some good rest in, if she was going to be doing a lot of combat tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, Yang was salty for a fight. She had practically spent all night and breakfast imagining herself in the arena, deftly dodging attacks and countering clumsy blows every which way but sideways. As they assembled students together in their school uniforms – from Atlas’s distinctive field gray to Gvardiya’s signature blood red – Yang couldn’t help but feel excited. After all, there wasn’t anything she loved more than showing everyone why she was the best student and fighter around. Today was set to be no different.

“Alright, next two! We need volunteers!” Professor Wellers shouted. He looked down upon them sternly from the observation platform, a swagger stick made out of the barrel of one of his old weapon barrels and a deactivated Dust cartridge in his hands that smacked against his palms as he watched the fights unfold. “You! Xiao Long! You! Punk from Gorizont! Get in the ring, _pronto!_”

Yang smiled, hopping up to face her opponent. This was one of the people from Team AMZN that she had met last week at the docks. Was he Mikhail or Nikolai? She couldn’t remember. The green light came on, signaling that they could ready their weapons. She pumped her fists, engaging Ember Celica as he brought out what looked like a flail, swinging it around in order to build up momentum. Alright, she could work with this. He had range on her, but she could work easily in close quarters.

“Yang Xiao Long and Nikolai Sergeivich Chernov!” Professor Wellers shouted. “At the buzzer, begin your fight! First to have their Aura deplete below thirty percent loses!”

Yang let out a slow, steady breath, steeling herself for his first move. He continued to swing his flail around, a heavy beard obscuring his mouth. What she could see clearly, though, were the cold eyes of a man that must have lived a hard life and come back even stronger because of it.

Mere seconds later, the buzzer cracked the air, and like a rocket Nikolai shot off, heading toward her with a speed that betrayed the armor he wore. It was like his flail took no effort to swing around at all, and he swung wide at her. A telltale sound of a Dust cartridge firing told Yang that his weapon was more than met the eye. She dodged, or so she thought at least, because almost immediately cold, hard spikes and a solid mass hit her lower back, sending her careening across the arena.

Yang regained control quickly, though, feeling the heat build up. Alright, so he must not have known about her Semblance, otherwise he wouldn’t have hit her so hard for a first strike. Unless it was part of his plan? She couldn’t be sure. Yang charged at him as he swung again, bu this time she expected the followup with Dust and went underneath it, sliding below the flail’s path to deliver a series of Dust-charged punches to his lower torso. He grunted, but it didn’t seem like her hits had any effect.

With a snarl, he kicked her away and readied another strike. This time, she heard three short shots ring out – he must have forgone using his own strength to swing and had begun to utilize the Dust. Yang jumped above his strike, using Ember Celica to gain height, and as she began her descent Yang angled herself to land a punch on his back, right when he was at the apex of his swing. However, instead of tanking the hit like she expected, Nikolai had struck back with an unexpected reverse blow.

Once again, Yang found herself tumbling head over heels as she began to wonder where she had gone wrong. She knew he was an upperclassman – at least two years her senior, if that depending on birthday – but that shouldn’t have equated to reading her like an open fucking book. This didn’t make sense. How did he know exactly how to counter her attacks and break through her usual style? It didn’t even make sense with his weapon – it was built for range and raw power, not quick flurries of attacks that would typically match her.

She checked her Scroll as she got back up. Already at fifty percent. If she took more hits like that, she’d be out of this fight for good. Alright, Yang, _think._ What could possibly dislodge this guy? Once again, he began to spin his flail, building momentum and watching her every movement like a Nevermore. _That was it,_ she realized. Nikolai never committed until he was sure she was making a move to a specific direction. He was waiting until Yang had gone too far, and the momentum couldn’t possibly take her anywhere else.

_Alright,_ Yang thought as she cracked her neck. _You wanna dance? Allow me to take the lead, dickhead._ Yang charged again, but right as he had committed, Yang sidestepped, betraying his own tendency. To further throw him off balance, Yang used Ember Celica to propel herself even farther beyond his grasp, lobbing fire-infused rounds at him. Nikolai became consumed in the fire, and this forced him to leap back out from his dominant position. _Good._ She could charge again, and this time without his built-up momentum, he had to make a choice – use more Dust and risk a hit, or find another way out.

He chose the first option. Yang heard the explosion first, and ducked just in time for his spikes to barely scratch her head. She rose up with a Dust-infused uppercut, which sent him flying high and back to the ground with a crash as his weapon clattered by his side, useless. A solid _smack_ could be heard – Professor Wellers apparently approved.

“Goddammit, soldier!” he shouted. “Nikolai Sergeivich Chernov’s Aura is below thirty percent, and therefore he is eliminated! Yang Xiao Long wins!”

Yang dusted her shoulders off, leaning down to help Nikolai up. “You did pretty well out there,” she said. “Had me on the ropes for a bit.”

“Heh,” he said, grunting as he stood up. “You’re a good fighter, Yang Xiao Long. You would do well in Gvardiya Academy, you know.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “I couldn’t ever leave Vale, I think you know that.”

“Maybe,” he said, sniffing as he tilted his head and contemplated this. “Maybe.”

Immediately, Nikolai’s teammates surrounded him, cutting the two of them off from further conversation. Likewise, Weiss rushed over, acting more like a personal trainer and military intelligence officer all in one, pumping her up for another fight while also grilling her on everything she had learned during their brief fight. Yang promised to tell her, but first – she really needed to take a break.


	9. Round One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vytal Tournament begins, bringing surprises and interesting challenges ahead.

The day had finally come for the beginning of the Vytal Tournament. Dozens of teams had come together from across Remnant in order to prove that their academy was supreme, and this year was certain to show who would come out on top. Even just the spectacle of coming to the Amity Coliseum was grand – it floated high above Vale, able to hold countless spectators with the only way up or down from the stadium’s plazas being the familiar airships she had always seen. It was the perfect neutral ground to be at in order to hold a tournament like this, where combat mattered most.

For their first fight, Team RWBY was matched up against Team ABRN from Haven. The excitement was sending waves of tension through the air as Yang steeled herself, just waiting for the fight to start. The fact that Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck explained the rules for the audience both at home and in the stadium echoed throughout didn’t bother her much.

Two biomes rose up, replacing the digitized grid before. Looked like it was a classic split between fire and ice. Yang couldn’t help but smirk as the countdown timer began – these guys didn’t look too tough, and she had confidence in Ruby and Weiss’s strategies going into this fight. For once, Weiss trying to know literally everything about everyone was going to pay off.

The fight started with a loud buzzer, and a flurry of activity. Yang and Blake charged forward as Ruby took to what little high ground was available, and Weiss stayed back to summon glyphs that helped them take the fight to ABRN before they could react. They knew these guys were easy to knock out of the ring, one of the easiest ways to win the fight aside from just pummeling on them until their Aura went below the threshold.

Blake broke off to clash with someone on a hoverboard. Ordinarily, she’d head off with her, but Yang had her sights on someone else, namely someone who didn’t even appear to have a weapon. Yang knew better though – she had forgotten her name, but Yang knew her garrote wire could be deadly if she was allowed to use it, mixing bare fisticuffs with a wire that could deny movement just as quickly as stop her dead. As the pops of Dust weaponry mixed with Ruby’s sniper rifle, Yang began firing her shotguns in an effort to disrupt her new target.

These people were smart, that much Yang could tell. She and Kung Fu Kelly were evenly matched as they traded blows left and right, but they couldn’t keep this up forever. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the hoverboard hero’s Aura dropping. Blake must have been doing well in her fight with her. The split-second distraction, however, led to something being wrapped around her leg. Yang looked down to see Kung Fu Kelly’s wire, shimmering in the light. Just as she looked up again, Yang was spun around like a barrel, which was soon followed up by a devastating kick that sent her into a rock formation.

_Okay,_ she was _done_ playing around. Yang got off the ground, feeling the rage fill her as she clenched her fists and approached, just as another buzzer filled the air. This was the signal that someone had been knocked out. Even better – ABRN had one less team member to come to their aid. Looked like Kung Fu Kelly had decided to retreat and help out her allies that had been caught up in Weiss’s ice formations, lining up perfectly. _Even better._

“Yang!” Weiss called, forming an ice slide for her to use. “Now!”

Yang grinned, using Dust to propel herself even faster along the slide with Blake close behind. Blake threw one half of Gambol Shroud to her, which she caught. Blake then pulled hard, leaping on Crescent Rose for Ruby to launch the two of them towards ABRN, each of the remaining three lined up like bowling pins. Yang cocked back her arm as Blake tumbled over, releasing her and Gambol Shroud towards them as she unleashed a devastating, full-force Dust-infused punch that launched all three of them not just back, but _through_ a chunk of rock straight out of the arena.

Rolling her shoulders back, Yang smiled, releasing a huff of air as if she had just shrugged off a great weight that had been on her shoulders. Another day, another win for Team RWBY. Now all they needed to do was sit back, relax, and wait for round two. She turned to see Weiss, Blake and Ruby all cheering, practically jumping up and down in excitement. And hell, why shouldn’t they? They had just wrecked face, just like Yang said they would.

* * *

The final fight of the team round involved Gvardiya’s AMZN against Beacon’s own JNPR, rumored to be one of the best fights for the Gorizont team and an anticipated easy win. Yang settled in just as the warmups began to end between the two teams and the countdown began.

“Welcome to the final fight of round one!” Professor Port said, signaling the start of the commentary. “An interesting development, this has just been handed to us!”

“Yes, Albina Fominchina Bezzhalostova, leader of Team AMZN, has elected to remove herself from the competition! Taking her place is Nadezhda Borichina Hazelova, a fellow Gvardiya Academy student who was practically waiting in the wings!”

“A strange strategy to duck out at the last moment,” Professor Port commented, “let’s see how it plays out for Team AMZN! Can they work with the last-second replacement to find victory, or is their run doomed before it even begins?”

Yang furrowed her brow, watching the two teams take the field. Weird. Why would she take herself out now? It didn’t make much sense to Yang, but, whatever – it wasn’t _her_ team that was crippling itself by doing this. The two biomes soon appeared – a heavily forested area, which crossed over to a dusty, mountainous terrain dotted with high peaks and sharp rocks. The countdown soon begun, with Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck reminding the audiences of the two teams and their respective academies, as headshots of the two teams began to appear alongside their Aura percentages.

The buzzer rang – time for the fight to begin. JNPR broke right in a classic split formation that Yang had come to expect from them, with Jaune covering Ren as Nora and Pyrrha ran a close angle. The red-haired one – a glance at the board showed this was Zoya – fired off a rapid series of Dust shots, working her bolt with a speed that Yang had never seen out of anyone, even Ruby. It looked like she was screening Ren and Jaune while the rest of the team went after Nora and Pyrrha.

“Ooh, and an interesting start to our fight!” Doctor Oobleck said. “Zoya Zvaigzne is currently preventing either Jaune Arc or Lie Ren from advancing, allowing an uneven three-on-two matchup against Pyrrha Nikos and Nora Valkyrie!”

The other three members of AMZN charged right for the mentioned pair as one of them, Mikhail, unfolded a forward grip on his ax, pinning it down on the ground. Shots began to ring out that apparently signaled Zoya to retreat for a moment, causing her to back off as she kept a careful eye on Ren and Jaune. As the two sides began to clash, punctuated by Nora’s grenade launcher going off and Mikhail’s gun popping, Yang watched the two sides trade blows in what seemed like an evenly matched bout. Nikolai, like she had come to expect from him, was keeping Pyrrha at a distance as the other girl began to charge in with Nora.

It looked like the new girl, Nadezhda or something, had some sort of staff that she was using to combat Nora’s long-ranged hammer, deftly parrying attacks and smacking the hell out of Nora at every opportunity. Sitting where she was, Yang couldn’t hear what each side was saying, but each seat did have a terminal that allowed the guest to choose a camera angle to look at. Through her screen, Yang saw a closeup of Zoya turning her head, apparently talking to one of her teammates as she shoved Dust cartridges into her rifle. She looked out again, pressing a button that transformed her weapon.

Within mere seconds, her rifle had changed and became a scythe. Yang looked over to Ruby, who looked about as shocked as she was. They _both_ thought that using a scythe was practically unknown – after all, nearly everyone said that it was incredibly hard to use them. But Zoya seemed to wield hers with as much ease as Ruby did, without even a hint of awkwardness to her stance or attacks.

“It looks like Zoya Zvaigzne is joining the fray,” Professor Port commented. “It seems she’s no longer content with merely sitting in the back and shooting her rifle at JNPR!”

True to his color commentary, Zoya had indeed joined in, charging at Jaune who held with a closely guarded stance. In their sparring matches, Jaune had usually been able to exploit Ruby’s lack of close-quarters protection by closing in – did Zoya have that same weakness to her? It didn’t look like it. As Auras began to deplete, Yang could tell JNPR was quickly losing the fight as the upperclassmen soon began to toss them around like ragdolls, countering and parrying every attack with relative ease. Zoya and Jaune in particular told a tale of one man clearly outmatched, even with the flexibility his sword offered.

Yang focused the terminal on Zoya’s follow camera, watching the red-haired menace fight without even a hint of anxiety or fear in her face. Jaune swung wide, which she easily blocked and followed up with a flurry of dramatic, sweeping swings with her scythe, as well as quick kicks and jabs that threw him off-balance. Before Yang could even track it, Jaune had been knocked out as his Aura dropped too low. Her head swiveled as she heard the buzzer, no doubt searching for her next target. In this case it turned out to be Ren, and in the blink of an eye she had swapped again from scythe to rifle.

“This is an interesting matchup,” Doctor Oobleck said. “Lie Ren versus Zoya Zvaigzne! Rifle versus machine pistols! Ren is noted within Beacon for his excellence in evasive maneuvers, but Zoya’s records at Gvardiya Academy note her as a marksman without compare!”

“She’s even doing that without a scope,” Port commented. “See? Her rifle only has iron sights, a rare accessory in this day.”

As if Yang needed the confirmation, the sights on the terminal and the little nook in the mountainous terrain Zoya and Ren were fighting on told the story that the commentators were relaying. Despite Ren being able to move extremely fast and keep Zoya on her toes with harassing shots, he couldn’t close in like he wanted. Even when he _could,_ the bayonet on the end of her rifle, part of the scythe she used, threatened him into staying back.

It looked like Ren saw an opportunity when she had to reload. He charged towards her, low pops from his dual pistols filling the air as he approached that no doubt obscured Zoya’s vision. Soon enough, the two locked into a brutal melee, with Zoya using practically every part of her rifle to parry and block his attacks. Just as quickly as Ren had gained an advantage, though, Zoya had found a way to turn it back, grabbing his arm with her bayonet scythe and slamming him to the ground. Another buzzer – Ren was now out of the battle.

It all came down to Nora and Pyrrha now, but it looked like they had problems of their own. Nora was busy fighting with Nadezhda and Mikhail, who had opted to join in directly by swinging his massive ax at her. She and Mikhail traded hits, both standing strong almost more like they were playfully joking with their oversized weapons than actually fighting. With a gleeful glint to her eye, though, Nora parried a blow and then countered with a Dust-infused strike of her own, sending Mikhail careening out of the arena for a ring out. Well, at least they had managed to get _one_ of them so far.

For Pyrrha, however, it looked like fighting against Nikolai was one of the easiest things she had ever done. Every swing he threw at her seemed to miss, like he was perpetually off his game, and Yang could see the frustration growing on his face. He was starting to make mistakes, and Pyrrha was more than willing to exploit those mistakes. She glanced up to watch Nikolai’s Aura continue to drop steadily, until another buzzer signaled that he too had been eliminated. Now it was truly even – two on two.

But this didn’t come without cost. Zoya swooped in almost immediately, disrupting Pyrrha’s attempts to help Nora out with precise shots that landed almost directly at her feet. It looked like for now, Nora had to contend with Nadezha on her own – Pyrrha had to counter Zoya first. The two closed in on one another as Zoya began to top off her rifle. Why hadn’t she switched to the scythe? It didn’t make sense to Yang. Pyrrha, meanwhile, kept her shield close at hand as she began to assail Zoya with her sword.

“Wow,” Blake muttered. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fight that well with a rifle.”

Yang could only nod, unable to take her eyes away from the fight. How could she, when her friend’s future success in the tournament was at stake? Zoya fought like she had been using this exact same rifle as a weapon ever since she could walk, moving like it had become a part of her rather than just a tool.

In the blink of an eye, though, the tide had turned against Pyrrha. Zoya had baited her into a thrust, delivering a quick kick to Pyrrha’s stomach that prevented her from using her shield. This in turn allowed Zoya to turn her rifle around in her hands, striking at Pyrrha with the full force of her strength and weight with the rifle’s curved stock. Another buzzer, another member of JNPR down as Pyrrha’s Aura fell below 30%. Only Nora remained, and even she was in critical danger as her Aura was down to just 40%.

As it turned out, Nora’s status as last woman standing was short-lived. Nadezhda had just delivered a knockout blow, sending Nora not just out of the arena, but also damaging her Aura to critical levels. In the span of mere minutes, Team AMZN had won and brought JNPR’s hopes of advancing to a crashing end.

“I hope you’re ready to work,” Weiss said, rushing to plug her Scroll into the terminal. “We’re going to be reviewing _all_ of this tape tomorrow.”

Yang looked back to the arena, watching the victorious Team AMZN celebrate. “I think we’re going to need it,” she muttered.

* * *

The deadline for selecting two of their team to advance to the duos round was coming up. However, Weiss insisted on accounting for every possibility, scrutinizing every single match in round one and theorycrafting matchups against every single possible combination of duos from the teams. It made little sense to Yang, and more often than not she found herself losing track of what pairs were good for them and bad, but in her mind it didn’t much matter – all that they should have cared about was winning. If they won, it didn’t matter _what_ the other pairs were, they were safe.

“Alright,” Weiss said, staring at the board in front of her with the hundreds of potential pairs. “I think we can safely pin our bets that FNKI will put forth Flynt and Neon. NDGO will probably choose Gwen and Octavia. CMEL is likely to send Mercury and Licorice.”

“What about AMZN?” Blake asked, resting her head on her hand.

“Yes, AMZN,” Weiss muttered, blinking heavily as she looked at the board. “I think no matter what, Zoya is going to be part of it, which thankfully knocks out at least 33% of these other combinations. I think it’s likely that they’ll also pair her with Mikhail.”

Yang nodded, drumming her fingers on her desk. “Alright, so what’s our play with that? Me and Blake? Zoya’s good in close quarters, but we’re better.”

“I’m not sure about that idea,” Blake said. “That puts us in a bad position if we’re dealing with range, and even if they send just Zoya, you’ve seen her shooting. With both Mikhail and Zoya, that’s a lot of range that we have to deal with.”

Weiss nodded, practically beaming at Blake like she had just read her mind. “Perfectly said, Blake. We need to counter range with our own range. It’s Ruby’s decision, of course, but I would recommend we send Blake and Ruby.”

“Wait, really?” Ruby asked, completely dumbfounded. “Wouldn’t it be better to send Yang?”

“No, I can see it,” Yang said, shrugging. “Unless we do Weiss and myself, but I’m not sure if Weiss’s Aura can stand up to the punishment we’d take if we have to fight Zoya. It’d be better to send you guys.”

Blake shrugged, looking at the matchups that Weiss predicted were likely. “We shouldn’t second-guess ourselves going into this. So, Ruby, what will it be? Me and you in the second round, or Weiss and Yang?”

Yang looked over, watching Ruby sit back in her chair. No doubt she was trying to think of every possible outcome and still make a good decision at the same time. Finally, Ruby sighed, straightening up. “Let’s do myself and Blake. I think we can take on any of these matchups with the two of us.”

“It’s decided, then,” Weiss said, nodding sharply. “Alright, you two need to get into _tip-top_ condition to fight! Round two starts tomorrow, so we should be sparring against everyone who’s in the arena now!”


	10. New Challengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second round of the Vytal Tournament begins.

The cheering crowds sounded seventeen times louder than anything else Ruby had ever heard before. She and Blake had been matched up against Zoya and – contrary to Weiss’s predictions – Nikolai, both of whom stood opposite of them as the biomes began to change. Woods, an urban area, sprawling desert, and a mountain soon appeared, and immediately Ruby began to analyze where she could go. It depended on who Zoya and Nikolai decided to focus first. If they both went after her, then Blake had the space to come in behind and harass, but if they went for Blake first, then Ruby would have to join in.

Opposite of her, Zoya stood with her hand on her rifle, which rested against the ground as Zoya stared at her. Maybe she was thinking the same thing Ruby was. Nothing about her stance betrayed what she was intending to do, but given how she had opted to keep the rifle out instead of using her scythe, Ruby guessed maybe she intended to screen with shots first. It made sense – that seemed to be her usual tactic, judging by the footage that she and Weiss had pored over. Next to her, Nikolai continually built up momentum with his flail, no doubt seeking redemption after yesterday’s disappointing performance against Pyrrha.

The buzzer sounded out. Time to fight. Ruby headed to the right, watching Zoya sidestep and bring up her rifle. It felt like she was tracking her with deadly intent behind her aim, but she hadn’t fired yet. Why? What was she planning to do? Nikolai, meanwhile, began to chase after Blake. So, it looked like they were splitting the difference, but if that was the case, why wasn’t Zoya going after Ruby? Why did she just stand there, aiming her rifle?

Ruby looked away, having to focus more on navigating the terrain in front of her. Apparently, Zoya had just been waiting for Ruby to take her attention off her, because she now had to dodge shots that began flying her way, blocking her path up to the advantageous position she wanted to take. Ruby unfolded Crescent Rose, pausing only to fire off two shots at Zoya in response. Through her scope, Ruby saw Blake already contending with Nikolai, and it looked like she was in trouble. Time to change it up. She leaped off the column she had been running along to head between Zoya and Nikolai, activating her Semblance to prevent Zoya from landing easy shots on her. If she planned this right, Ruby could zip past Zoya before she even had time to readjust.

Instead, however, Ruby found herself sprawled on her back, the wind knocked out of her. What had happened? She scarcely even registered anything happening.

“_Ooh!_” Doctor Oobleck shouted above the roar of the crowd. “A one-in-a-million strike against Ruby Rose! The eponymous leader finds herself on her back and at Zoya Zvaigzne’s mercy!”

The white edge of Zoya’s scythe came for her, and Ruby rolled out of the way, getting back to her feet and taking Crescent Rose back into her hands. Somehow, Zoya had managed to catch her as she sped past, and now she had no choice but to engage the upperclassman from Gorizont in a fight.

“Zoya Zvaigzne has shown great skill with her personal weapon, War Bride,” Professor Port commented. “This is to be a battle for the ages! Two impressive scythe wielders, equally matched in skill! ...or are they? Ruby Rose is a first-year student at Beacon, but Zoya Zvaigzne is finishing her third year at Gvardiya Academy!”

“Yes, this is certainly a testament to not only fighting spirit, but personal skill as well! Two excellent techniques here on display – Ruby Rose’s style is emblematic of the East, but Zoya shows a stance well familiar to anyone beyond the Middle Sea!”

A chilly air settled on the arena as Ruby stared at Zoya, who held her scythe in an odd reverse stance. The tip was aimed down, no doubt in preparation for a quick attack, but instead of keeping it forward like Ruby did, the spiked bottom part of the snath was in front of her, probably for defense if necessary. It felt like an eternity passed between the two facing off and the beginning of phase two of this fight, when Zoya began to move forward. This was it – no doubt she intended to start attacking.

Ruby anticipated the low blow, which involved Zoya swinging her scythe around to get at Ruby’s legs, bringing Crescent Rose up to strike at Zoya’s shoulders. However, Zoya instead quickly switched gears, using the diamond-shaped snath to block Ruby’s strike and followed up with another lightning-quick low cut.

On her knees now, Ruby fired a shot off to escape, leaving Zoya vulnerable to attack. Ruby charged at her opponent, swinging high. Like she thought she would, Zoya blocked it, and for a moment Ruby followed the block but snapped right back to counter Zoya’s own strike. This moment of shock for Zoya gave Ruby the room to cut at her chest, knocking Zoya back. With room cleared, the two scythe-wielders paused, if only to silently dare one another to make the first move. So far, they had both gotten good hits in, but Ruby would have to do a lot more than just trade attacks to win and advance.

Ruby fired off a shot, whirling around and using her momentum to swing at Zoya’s torso with a horizontal strike. By this point, Zoya had transitioned to holding her scythe high, and as Ruby began to swing towards her, Zoya blocked the attack and brought her blade down on Ruby’s back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zoya’s scythe spin as she prepared for another attack. Ruby tried to roll out of the way, but it seemed Zoya anticipated this and brought the snath crashing down on her. These were hard hits to take, even with the benefit of Aura.

She heard shots ring out – that must have been Blake, and a short yelp signaled to her that Zoya had been suppressed for a moment. Time to turn this around. Ruby jumped off the ground, engaging Zoya in a whirlwind of attacks that she couldn’t defend against. A quick glance at the screen showed that Zoya’s Aura was down to 40%. Good – she could keep hammering at her and knock her out of the fight.

However, the sight of Zoya’s rifle barrel aimed at her, quickly followed up with a shot almost directly to her face, dispelled that notion quickly. Where had she even found the time to change up to the rifle? How hadn’t Ruby seen that happen? Well, time to fight fire with fire. Ruby folded Crescent Rose up, utilizing the short rifle to trade shots with Zoya. It looked like her opponent was falling back, trying to link up with Nikolai. How was the fight with Blake going? It didn’t look like either one was losing much in the way of Aura. Blake must have been using her Semblance to force Nikolai to hit copies of herself to no effect.

As Zoya and Nikolai grouped up, Blake went wide, forcing her opponent to keep constant watch on her. Ruby and Blake made short eye contact, forming a hasty, short-term unspoken plan. Blake immediately went to work, working on screening Zoya and drawing her fire as Ruby began to contend with Nikolai. Ruby closed the distance, dodging his wide swings and Dust-fueled counterattacks as she unfurled Crescent Rose to its full length, swinging at him and knocking him to the left.

Nikolai tumbled about, keeping control of his flail as he did so, He quickly regained control of his footing and charged at Ruby, another attack of his that she dodged with relative ease. His flail’s head slammed into the ground and kicked up dirt, dust and grass alike as it made a small crater. _Opportunity!_ Ruby fired a single shot, driving Crescent Rose into his side that caused him to unleash a loud cry of pain. As he got knocked back deeper into the forest, she looked at the board – Nikolai was now at 60% Aura, herself 45%, and Blake with a good 70%. Zoya still teetered on the edge at 38%, but it was better than nothing.

Ruby looked back down to see Nikolai had seemingly disappeared. She had no idea where he went to. Where could he have even gone in such short time? Ruby looked back to Blake and Zoya after hearing Blake call for help, seeing that she and Zoya were locked in a duel. Blake had her katana out, matching strikes as Zoya fought with her scythe. How was she able to even parry attacks from swords like the ones Blake and Pyrrha had?

She realized where Nikolai had gone. He burst out of the forest to attack Blake from behind, using Dust to make his flail even more lethal than it already was. Activating her Semblance again, Ruby sprinted to Blake’s defense, blocking Nikolai’s flail. Alright, new plan. Ruby went on the offensive against Nikolai, swinging her scythe around in a wide circle. He didn’t quite seem to know how to defend against this, which Ruby found odd considering his teammate. Frozen with indecision, Ruby’s attacks managed to land several hits on him, which depleted his Aura even lower.

Ruby took advantage of his disrupted state to grab him, hooking him around Crescent Rose’s blade. Utilizing a shot, she catapulted him out of the arena, with a buzzer signaling his elimination from the battle.

“Good job, Ruby!” Blake yelled in between staving off Zoya’s attacks. Ruby immediately joined in to help Blake out. She and Zoya continually blocked and parried each other’s attacks, and despite the difference in styles, Ruby could practically call each attack she made. After all, Ruby and Zoya’s attacks mirrored one another, disregarding casual differences like how quickly they swung or how high up they took their blades.

Blake and Ruby fell back only for a moment, retreating through the forest as Zoya relentlessly pursued. “Okay, we need a new plan,” Blake said, hiding behind a tree. “We can’t run from her, she’ll track us with that rifle.”

“Maybe we can bait her?” Ruby asked. “Get her to hit your ribbons, launch her out of the arena?”

Her teammate shook her head. “No, we need more momentum to do that. She won’t have enough on her own. You’d need to either shoot her into it, or we’d need Yang.”

Shots began to hit the trees they hid behind, punctuated by the tell-tale sound of Zoya working her bolt. With the caliber she was using, Zoya could easily penetrate the trees and hit them. Time to start moving again.

Ruby whipped around as a shot snapped past her, watching Zoya intensely stare them down as she lowered her rifle, loading it up with fresh Dust cartridges. “She’s reloading!” Ruby called out to Blake. “Let’s get her!”

She and Blake immediately turned back, speeding across the open clearing to get to Zoya’s position. Just as quickly as they had arrived and begun to clash, however, Zoya had begun attacking in force. With a brutal stroke from the butt of her rifle, Zoya sent Ruby crashing into a tree, knocking her Aura down to 32%. Even closer to danger than she was before. An unexpectedly quick follow-up shot knocked her out entirely as the buzzer rang. It was all up to Blake now.

Ruby could do little else but watch as Blake and Zoya fought. Blake had the advantage in Aura, but if the rest of this fight was anything to go off of, Zoya had a clear skill advantage. An ice clone of Blake’s trapped Zoya as she swung too eagerly with her bayonet, freezing her in place. Zoya stared at the clone, and then at Blake as she leaped, intent to strike. As if it happened in slow motion, Ruby watched Zoya pull back her rifle’s bolt, and insert a single fire Dust cartridge straight into the barrel. Before Blake could even bring her blade around, Zoya had fired, breaking the ice and sidestepping out of the way.

Blake seemed to have expected this, and wrapped her ribbon around Zoya’s ankle. Now off-balance completely, Zoya was helpless to resist further attacks from Blake as she was dragged across the forest floor. However, Zoya simply elected to cut the ribbon after smacking into a tree, which freed her and allowed the two to face off once again. Ruby looked to the board – Zoya was at 31% to Blake’s 49%. _So close. Just one good hit._

Zoya unfurled her scythe, swinging horizontally as Blake charged forward. At the last possible second, Blake entered a slide, ducking under Zoya’s scythe and unleashing a hail of bullets into Zoya’s chest. A minor explosion enveloped the forest they were in, and one final buzzer rang.

“Zoya Zvaigzne’s Aura is too low to continue combat!” Professor Port announced. “Ruby Rose and Blake Belladonna win and advance to the final round!”

Immediately, Ruby felt a wide smile cross her face as she scrambled up, tackling Blake to the ground. “Wediditwediditwedidit!”

“Yup, we did,” Blake said weakly, coughing. “Can you… uh… get off me? I would like to breathe.”

“Oh! Sorry!” Ruby exclaimed, jumping off Blake. She sighed, shaking her head as she got up, but Blake still looked happy, thrilled that she and Ruby had won this fight.

“Hey,” a rough voice said. Ruby and Blake turned to see Nikolai towering over then, holding a hand out. “You guys fought pretty well. Good job.”

Blake nodded, while Ruby shook Nikolai’s hand. “Thanks,” Ruby said, smiling. “Uh, where’s Zoya?”

“Eh, Zoyushka’s feeling pretty down on herself right now,” Nikolai said, shrugging. “But she’ll come around in time, I figure. Good luck in the finals, you two.”

Nikolai headed off, kneeling down next to Zoya who didn’t move from her spot on the ground. Ruby saw she had fell to her hands and knees after the buzzer rang, fists on the ground as if she had been pounding it in anger. It looked like they were talking, but Ruby couldn’t hear what about over the sound of the crowd. Eventually, Blake had begun pulling at Ruby’s arm, and together they faced the Beacon side of the stadium to an uproar that drowned out everything. They had really done it. Team RWBY would be heading to the finals, represented by either Blake or Ruby herself.

* * *

Between the two of them, Blake and Ruby had come to the decision that Blake was best suited to tackle the remaining contestants, having to fight her way through singles to become the ultimate champion. As it turned out, she once again ended up in the final match against CMEL’s Mercury Black, a fact that Weiss lamented since they had been unable to review footage of his combat style leading up to the battle. Still, he had no weapons aside from his boots – Blake could play the range advantage, keep him from doing anything too fancy with his footwork.

For singles, no biomes were present. It was all about skill, fighting on a raised platform that offered no advantages one way or the other, which was also considerably smaller than the massive arenas they had been on beforehand. Ring-outs were far easier to score now, a fact Blake couldn’t help but be conscious of as the countdown began. Across from her, Mercury assumed a regular bare-knuckle stance, no doubt anticipating a charge.

The buzzer sounded. Blake unsheathed Gambol Shroud in its katana form, and in a flash Mercury charged, leaping high for a forward kick. She sidestepped, unleashing a flurry of attacks to his back that forced him to tumble. Recovering quickly, Mercury again took point in closing the distance, aided with the help of his Dust boots. Blake began to block, tanking hits from Dust-infused kicks that pushed her back with each impact. She grabbed his leg with her ribbon, spinning him sideways and opening fire, but just as quickly as Blake had done this, Mercury had rolled out of the way.

Alright, time to change it up. He kicked again, but this time his foot got caught in a stone imitation of Blake, giving her time to cut around and swipe at his other leg. Despite taking a brutal hit, he fired a Dust shot that freed him from the stone and cartwheeled back, lobbing a series of Dust shots to her position. Blake rolled out of the way, but not before catching the wrong end of one of the explosions. The shockwave sent her flying back, almost to the very edge of the arena, and Mercury was rapidly approaching.

Could she bait him into overshooting his kick? Probably not. Her Aura was nearing 70% now to his 68%. This fight was fairly even, but it could easily go sideways for her. Once again, Mercury let loose a flurry of kicks, no doubt intent on sending her directly off the side. He wouldn’t fall for a Semblance clone again, she’d have to get more creative with her defenses. Blake grabbed his leg, surprising him long enough for her to throw him over her head and into the ground. This created enough space for her to back off a bit and allow her to actually use her range to her full advantage.

As Mercury approached, Blake opened fire, forcing him to slow down his advance in order to dodge incoming rounds. She thought that a straight-up explosion would have forced him to stop, but instead he charged right through the black smoke and kicked her straight in the chest. It seemed like he was hitting harder and harder as this fight went on. Alright, no more time to play games. Blake had to stay focused.

She blocked his kicks with Gambol Shroud, counterattacking when she could, but it felt like she was rapidly on the losing edge of this battle. Despite how well she was blocking, each hit was gradually wearing on her Aura, and the blows Blake was landing in response didn’t even seem to faze him. One last trick – right now, it had to work. She flash-froze his foot in place with an ice copy, rolling out of the way to bait him into the attack.

He cursed as his foot remained solidly encased in ice. _So far so good._ Within a second, though, he had broken the ice and spotted her flank attack, delivering a brutal roundhouse kick that sent her flying – again. Blake hit the ground hard, bouncing off of it and losing control of Gambol Shroud as she helplessly watched herself fall off the arena. By happenstance, she landed right on Vale’s insignia that was carved into the lower platforms, with the buzzer telling her all she needed to know.

“Blake Belladonna has been eliminated by ring-out and Aura levels!” Professor Port said. “Mercury Black wins!”

She sighed heavily, draping her arm across her eyes. Well, of all the ways to go out, at least she had done it fighting, but Blake would have preferred at least knocking his Aura down a _little_ more. Still, at least she had done well – a handful of first-years getting to singles was pretty good, all things considered.


	11. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Vytal Festival ends, RWBY sets their sights on a new challenge - shadowing a professional Hunter on a real mission.

With the Vytal Festival ending without incident and a well-deserved win going to Mistral, routine began to settle back on the campus. Team RWBY was set to head out on a field trip, shadowing a Huntsman as they conducted a mission. These were relatively easy, consisting mostly of clearing out Grimm, escorting families moving to new homes, and defending insecure perimeters. However, they were cautioned against taking it easy – even relatively simple tasks could be failed with dire results.

For their first venture out into the world, Ruby had selected a Grimm extermination mission, in the old expansion of Mountain Glenn. The ruins of the project stood as a memorial to Vale’s greatest failure, when they had tried to expand the city. Unfortunately, it was overrun by Grimm shortly after. Ruby had not forgotten their mission against Roman Torchwick – could he possibly be using this area as a hideout? Nobody had been able to find him despite the increased police presence and continuing robberies.

“Earth to Ruby?” Jaune said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Are you there?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I was just thinking.”

Jaune smiled, shaking his head. “You worry too much. You’ll be fine. It’s just a week, after all, right?”

“Yeah… I don’t know, I don’t want to be too far away from you.”

With his signature smile and the laugh that could defuse any situation, Jaune held her close for just a little while longer. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Okay,” Ruby said, clutching back as hard as she could. “Alright, you guys have fun on your mission. Love you!”

“Love you too,” Jaune said, waving her off as they broke the hug, running back to their respective teams.

“So,” Yang asked as Ruby neared their waiting zone. “Did you guys look who the Huntsman we’re shadowing is?”

Ruby shook her head. “No, I didn’t think to. Why?”

“Well, whoever it is, I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Weiss said.

Soon, an airship touched down, and the door slid open. Out stepped a single massive black boot, revealing Professor Degroot, who stood with even more armor on, complete with a helmet that had a visor which was cracked and broken where his left eye would have been. A wide grin was on his face as he looked at them, dropping off a dejected-looking Team CFVY.

“Are ye ready?” Professor Degroot asked. “Come on then! We’ve got demons tae banish!”

He held his sword on his shoulder, as if beckoning them to come forth with him on his grand crusade. Ruby couldn’t help but find herself chuckling at the spectacle – after all, Professor Degroot had gotten in this getup for what seemed like a fairly easy mission.

“Oi!” he shouted, leveled his sword at Ruby. “What are ye laughing about?! Get on this ship, and I mean it _now!_ The lot of ye are going to be helping me kill demons today, and I don’t want tae hear any complaining!”

“We should do what he says,” Blake said, heading on board. Slowly, RWBY filed in after her, and within the minute they had taken off, flying for Mountain Glenn.

Professor Degroot himself had sheathed his sword, bringing up a hologram of the area once they were underway. “So,” he said, gesturing to the hologram. “I assume ye know about Mountain Glenn. The Grimm here threaten the Kingdom, and for that it’s our goal tae banish them tae hell!”

“Do we know how many there are?” Weiss asked, dutifully taking notes.

“No, we don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ve got a tough fight ahead of us, lassies, I hope ye all have retained what I’ve taught ye. These Grimm are not your common demons like in the Emerald Forest, no, they’re _much_ worse.”

Ruby gulped, wondering if she had brought enough Dust for this. It had just said “Grimm extermination” after all, Ruby didn’t think it would be that _hard._ “So, uh, what do you mean by worse?”

“The demons you’ve been discussing in Professor Port’s class as of late are just the tip of the iceberg, lassie. These Grimm are not just powerful, they’re _old._ They’re old enough that they know to avoid Huntsmen, and have the scars to prove why such a thing is foolish.”

_Old Grimm._ That idea had never much crossed Ruby’s mind before. But, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. After all, the Grimm had to come from _somewhere,_ right? Surely, for as long as Remnant had existed, there was bound to be older Grimm just like there were older people.

She glanced out the window, noting that they had moved from Vale’s green plains and meadows to dilapidated, broken-down concrete streets that gradually moved to pale yellow grass and dense black dirt. Tall buildings, some with their rebar and wood structures showing like an anatomy model, stood scattered about in what felt like random locations. Places that Ruby assumed were homes stood either totally intact, or completely razed to the ground. Birds picked at what little remained. Even though the Mountain Glenn expansion had been planned and executed over twenty years ago, the sights and smells still felt like this tragedy had only happened yesterday.

“Alright, keep on yer toes,” Professor Degroot said as they dismounted. “We’re tae spend a week here, longer if needed! I won’t be entertaining any talk of going back for supplies!”

Ruby nodded, the weight of her backpack all but impossible to ignore. She had geared up with a week’s worth of food, but it was far heavier than she expected. Earlier, they had decided to divvy up the burden of a week’s worth of supplies for all of them between the four members of the team – Weiss trusted nobody else to carry the Dust they needed, while Ruby obviously took on food. Blake handled their water, while Yang had opted to load her pack with anything and everything else they could possibly need to survive for a week in hostile territory.

Slowly, their transport descended and the doors slid open, allowing them to hop out and actually take the first step into their first real mission. A cold wind blew over the landing zone, as if nature itself wanted to make sure they felt unsafe and alone in this ominous, foreboding location. Ruby looked up as they began to head into the abandoned city, watching a streak of thin gray clouds span the horizon. Rays of sunlight just barely peeked out, shooting down to the ground like spears sent from the heavens themselves.

After about a minute of standing about in the open, Professor Degroot turned to face them, a proud, almost determined look on his face. “Mission change,” he announced. “We are _not_ going to be banishing many demons today.”

“What?” Yang asked. “Why?!”

“I’m sure ye’ve noticed that this area was marked as a hotspot for Grimm activity,” he explained, leading them down a path. “I have been informed by our Headmaster that ye’ve been doing some… _extracurricular _work, shall we call it. Today’s the day to expand on that work, lassies!”

The team looked at each other, both confused and panicked. Had the school faculty leaned that they were tracking Roman Torchwick and his goons? If they had, what was the consequence for it? Was _this_ the consequence?

“Good news is that the Headmaster’s not ready tae throw the lot of ye out with the trash, but the bad news is – we’ve got a bigger problem. Now, there’s a lot of reasons Grimm would be congregating here,” Professor Degroot said. “The most likely is attraction to negative emotions. If I understand what the Headmaster’s told me of yer tales and activities, then the things they are attracted to the most – sadness, envy, loneliness, hatred – are all things harbored by our hidden group here.”

Slowly, they began to fall in behind him, preparing their weapons just in case something happened. “So,” Blake said. “You think that those people are here?”

“Aye,” he said, nodding. “D’ye see that? A Grimm, all by its lonesome. Oh, but don’t kill it – if we track it, it may well lead us tae its pack.”

Weiss blinked, lowering Myrtenaster as she looked at the Grimm. “Then… you think the pack will lead us to these people we’re hunting.”

“Now yer getting it,” Professor Degroot said, smiling wide. “Slow and careful, aye? We don’t want tae spook the demon and have it attack us.”

The Grimm began to stir, skulking away from them to round an abandoned corner. Slowly and carefully, they followed, weapons at the ready just in case it decided to turn around and attack them. Before long, they tracked it to a pack of five, which was sniffing the ground as if on the hunt for prey. But something was odd – the buildings they passed looked empty. Other than the obvious signs of past life, it didn’t seem like anything was alive here other than Grimm. Where was Roman? Where was the White Fang? Shouldn’t there be some indication of them around here?

The Grimm’s sniffing apparently led to something, as they each perked up and began to run. Time to follow. The team tracked the Grimm through narrow alleyways and past a broken boulevard that would probably have been a beautiful shopping district, had it not been for the thousands of panes of shattered glass that lay on the ground like a carpet. Unfortunately, Yang didn’t see the glass before stomping all over it, causing the Grimm to immediately stop and turn their way.

“Uh oh,” she said. “Uh, Professor? What do we do?”

Professor Degroot got an evil glint to his eye, as his smile became even toothier than Ruby thought possible. “Show me what yer capable of, lassies.”

Well, no better way to get involved than start shooting. As a team, the four charged together into the pack of Grimm, executing maneuvers they had practiced a million times before. Now that she had fought other Huntsmen, fighting Grimm no longer gave her the same thrill that it used to. It was too easy, simplistic to almost a fault. At least other Huntsmen changed up strategies once in a while. The sounds of Dust weaponry and dying Grimm soon filled the air as the team easily dispatched the pack of Grimm.

But now there was a new problem. Their lead had disappeared with the Grimm. As they came off the high of combat, the team looked to Professor Degroot, who stayed in the back polishing his sword as he watched them.

“You know,” Yang said, folding her arms. “I was looking forward to seeing a Huntsman in action, like… _helping_ us fight.”

“Oh, aye, I’m sure ye were,” Professor Degroot said. “But, being a Huntsman isn’t all about banishing demons. While ye were taking care of the wee Grimm problem, I was reconnoitering the area. Haven’t ye noticed something odd?”

Ruby raised her hand, practically begging him to pick her. “I know! There’s not a lot of stuff that shows anyone’s here!”

“I couldn’t have said it better meself,” he said, pointing his sword off to the right. “The Grimm were heading that way. I say we head there, find a good spot tae make camp and observe overnight.”

The team nodded, following their professor to the new campground and helping in setting up a defensive perimeter. Night was falling fast – before long, they’d be enshrouded in darkness.

* * *

“Oi,” Professor Degroot said to Yang as she tossed a pile of scrap wood down. “Come ‘ere, lassie.”

“I have a name, you know,” she said, folding her arms.

Professor Degroot smirked, nodding. “Alright then. Miss Xiao Long, come ‘ere.”

Yang sighed, heading over to the log he sat on as he wrote in a journal of his. Why did he want to see her? It didn’t make sense to Yang.

“Why do ye want tae be a Huntress?”

What the hell kind of question was _that?_ Yang blinked, trying to comprehend what she had just been asked and forming an answer at the same time. “Uh… well, to fight monsters and save-”

“That’s not an answer,” he said harshly, staring at her with his eye. “I don’t want tae know_ what _ye do, I want tae know _why_ ye do it.”

Well, _that_ was one hell of a loaded question. She had never really paused to consider _why_ she wanted to do it before. Yang had always just thought it’s what people did. After all, Mom and Dad did it, so why wouldn’t she? “The honest reasons?” Yang said, after heavily considering everything. “I want to travel the world, get wrapped up in as many adventures as I can, and… well, if I help people along the way, then it’s win-win.”

Professor Degroot looked at her, his face neutral with no signs of any feelings one way or the other toward her answer. Truth be told, the harsh, unrelenting gaze of his sole eye unnerved her, until he nodded slightly, jotting something down in his journal. “I see,” he said.

* * *

Weiss sighed. Professor Degroot could be a wonderful ally to have, when trying to understand the properties of Dust. But his overbearing attitude was just annoying her now. “So, Miss Schnee,” he said, practically looming over her as she cleaned Myrtenaster. “A lass born into fame and fortune. Ye don’t _need_ tae be a Huntress, so why risk life and limb when ye could be safe at home in Atlas, not risking yourself for others?”

“It’s like you said,” she explained. “I’m a Schnee. I have a legacy to uphold. Once I realized my fighting skills were much more useful than my business acumen, there wasn’t a question of what I’d do with my life. This is my duty.”

He circled around her, watching Weiss carefully extract every piece of dirt, remove any scuffs, and lubricate Myrtenaster. It was the same procedure she had done thousands of times. Why did it feel different with him watching?

“Interesting,” he finally said.

* * *

“You carry yourself with a sense of purpose,” Professor Degroot said, watching Blake make a fire for the night. “That’s well-regarded in Hunters! What drives ye, Miss Belladonna?”

Blake poked the fire, making sure it was healthy and strong. So far, so good. “There’s too much wrong in this world to just stand by and watch. Inequality, corruption, injustice… _someone_ has to stop it.”

Professor Degroot nodded, arching his eyebrows in silent approval. “Aye, that’s a noble goal. D’ye think people will listen to a Faunus who hides who she is, though?”

Blake felt her cheeks heat up, her eyes going wide as she dropped the stick she had been using to poke at the fire. Was… was he saying what she thought he was?

“No, I’m not going tae report ye,” he said quietly. “I don’t care if yer a Faunus.”

Finding her voice again, Blake looked up at him. “A lot of people have said that before.”

“Well, I’m one o’ the few that bloody _believe_ it. You’re a good student, Miss Belladonna, and an even better Huntress. I just want tae know why you want tae risk yerself protecting people who hate you.”

“Well,” Blake said, sighing. “I… I don’t know. I want to believe that I can help people. If I can’t, or won’t, who will?”

“Hmm,” Professor Degroot hummed, before returning to his journal.

* * *

Ruby picked the short straw in drawing first watch as night fell, looking out among the cold, indifferent night and the fields of black that surrounded the old town walls. Crescent Rose was next to her, just in case something came out of the dark to attack them, but she didn’t believe that was likely. After all, their morale was pretty high. No reason for the Grimm to come here. As she watched, Ruby heard the sounds of boots walking on concrete behind her.

“D’you see that?” Professor Degroot asked, pointing out to the darkness.

“Uh… no.”

He smacked the back of her head, frowning. “Then use yer scope, you absolute weapon.”

“Ow…” Ruby whined, before unfurling Crescent Rose and using the scope like he pointed out. Off in the distance, she spotted a massive Grimm. Each of its legs looked more like tree trunks than limbs, and it had tusks that Ruby was sure would impale her and practically split her in half if she tried to tangle with it. “Whoa… what _is_ that?!”

“That, my dear lassie, is a Grimm,” he said.

Without even thinking, she slipped her finger into the trigger guard. “Let’s kill it.”

Professor Degroot, meanwhile, merely laughed, patting her on the shoulder. “Ah, I’m afraid yer wee rifle would only piss it off, Miss Rose.”

“What? But what if it attacks us?”

“Don’t fret,” he said, smiling at her as she tore her eyes away from her scope to look at him. “Those Goliaths don’t care about _us._ Ye see, not every Grimm is mindless. Those Grimm there? They’ve lived so long, are so powerful, they’ve undoubtedly lived hundreds of years, and in between killing us and attacking our cities, they’ve _learned._ They know that when they come knocking, we come running.”

Ruby blinked, looking back out among the open field that contained the pack of Goliaths, each one lumbering towards an unclear goal. “Then… what are they doing here? Why are they so close to Vale?”

“They’re _waiting._”

“Waiting for what?”

He turned to look at her, frowning as his eye got a disdainful look to it. “Do I look like a bloody fortune teller to you?! How would I know?!”

Ruby recoiled, not expecting the sudden 180 in his mood. “Uh… no, I guess not. Um, Professor Degroot? Why did _you_ want to become a Huntsman?”

Professor Degroot smiled, nodding as he looked out at the field. “Aye, a fair question, isn’t it? Been hearing what I’ve been asking your teammates, have ye?”

“No, actually,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just curious, is all.”

“I see. Well, Miss Rose, if you must know, I came from a wee village in Vacuo, far away from any of the bigger cities and settlements. Well, back in _my_ day, Dust mining wasn’t a perfect technique, and that’s what me old man did. Lost both his eyes, he did. So, it was up to me tae protect the family, be the man of the house and work. Well, a man claiming to be a wizard comes tae the village, starts going on about performing miracles.”

“Miracles?” Ruby asked.

“Aye,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Could heal the deathly ill, give sight tae the blind, what-have-ye. People wanted to believe in him, and they did. Two days later, he returned with an army of Grimm and destroyed my home. I sought tae kill him, and though I did, it came at the cost of my eye and my family. What do you see here, Ruby?”

She was rather confused at the sudden change in topic. “Um… lots of buildings, empty streets…”

“_I_ see lives that could have been saved. I caution ye about Dust so bloody much because I’ve seen what it can do when in the wrong hands. Aye, sure, I could be out saving lives and banishing demons, but over the years I’ve learned that all the experience and knowledge ye’ve got don’t mean much if you die before passing it on. That’s why I teach at Beacon, to make sure whoever comes after me can save their own life, and the lives of others.”

Ruby nodded, taking in the story she had just told him. After a few more moments of silence, he told Ruby to go get some sleep – he would take over next watch. Yang, Weiss and Blake were all fast asleep by the time she got to her bedroll. She had a lot to think about as she drifted off to sleep, tales of old battles and images of the day’s events running through her mind.

* * *

The next day brought another patrol out into the ruins of the city. Professor Degroot claimed that they could still track Roman and the White Fang, but without the Grimm to give them potential clues, it would just be a little bit harder now. Thus, they set out early in the morning, exploring the ruins of Mountain Glenn with the intent to find any and all clues. So far, with a light breakfast and being woken up far too early, it was slow going. They trawled through every inch of the city, passing the dilapidated structures and walls overrun by vines that seemed to stretch from every possible corner. The entire city was eerie, down to the cold winds that continually blew past even as the trees stood still. It felt as if the town itself didn’t want them there.

Unease slipped into team RWBY’s ranks as they trekked through the city. Professor Degroot had taken them in a roundabout path through the twisting, narrow roads, claiming he knew full well where he was going and saying he had a “hunch” about what to do next. He had them assist him in examining every track, every small detail, anything that was out of place or looked wrong, all in a bid to seek out their “prey” as he called it. It seemed pointless. Ruby didn’t understand what all these small details added up to. If he shared what the buildup was going to, maybe she’d know.

Eventually, though, their travels took them to an abandoned subway station. The cracked ceramic tiles had undoubtedly seen better days, and the stains of hundreds of days of rain and snowfall clouded the once-white surfaces, leaving behind long streaks of horrid, bleak gray and yellow like something had been leeching into Vale’s very earth.

“We’ve found it, lassies,” Professor Degroot said.

“Uh… we have?” Weiss asked, clearly not believing him.

Laughing heartily, he turned to face them. “Aye, we have. I don’t think I need tae remind ye to be quiet, like a wee church mouse, alright? We don’t want them tae know we’ve caught on.”

Between the four of them, Blake took the lead in infiltrating the hideout, descending the staircase with Professor Degroot in tow. They carefully crept over broken bottles, forgotten newspapers of events long since passed, heading to a low light in the station. All other lights had gone out long ago, leaving only this light – whatever it may be – the only path to follow.

This light turned out to be the slivers of light opening up to a massive work area, apparently part of the subway expansion that had been planned for Mountain Glenn. Here, they spotted a flurry of activity. White Fang members drove around in forklifts and cranes, loading up a train with mechs that Blake identified as being the same ones she had seen unveiled at the White Fang recruitment drive before the Vytal Festival. Also being loaded up, this time by hand, were crates of Dust that despite their weight were being handled with care. Still Ruby wondered – what on earth did they need all this Dust for? What was their plan with the mechs?

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Professor Degroot said quietly, gesturing for them to follow him. “Come on, let’s go before they find us.”

“What?” Yang asked, furrowing her brow. “We should stop them, here and now!”

Professor Degroot sighed, shaking his head. “Even if we _were_ tae do that, they’ve an army out there. We have one Huntsman and four students. Those aren’t good odds, lassie. Don’t mistake it – I want tae stop them too, but _don’t do it._ Ye aren’t ready yet.”

Ruby looked at her teammates, seeing the same dejected, downtrodden faces she felt in her own emotions. All this work, this time spent, all for nothing? Well, Professor Degroot was right – they _couldn’t_ take on an entire White Fang army with just the four of them. Despondent, they silently followed Professor Degroot back to Beacon. It seemed they wouldn’t get any answers today.


	12. End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another semester begins, but the dangers are much more pressing than tests and exams.

Another semester had passed at Beacon following the Vytal Tournament, and for Pyrrha, all was going fairly well. Her combat rating had gone up, especially once Jaune had gained confidence in himself and proved his worth at the Vytal Tournament. Even though they had been knocked out in round one, Professor Wellers said he had been impressed with their tenacity in face of an overwhelmingly strong team.

So, if she was doing so well, why was she sitting here in the Headmaster’s office?

Headmaster Ozpin has not said a word since she entered, only sitting across his desk with a cup of coffee in his hands, slowly sipping on it as he observed her. Pyrrha hated awkward silences like this, completely unsettled as she nervously wriggled around in her chair. Did he do this with everyone, or was it just her?

“You seem anxious, Miss Nikos,” Headmaster Ozpin noted, putting down the cup.

Pyrrha jumped slightly, caught by surprise by his sudden concern. Swallowing heavily, she nodded. “Uh, well… yes, Headmaster. I’m… I suppose I’m concerned as to why I’m here, exactly.”

He looked at her curiously, with no signals that she could read to tell Pyrrha what he was thinking. “I see,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Miss Nikos, you have done exceptionally well in your studies. At the Vytal Tournament, you proved that, even against overwhelming odds, you can fight to the last. Your team’s mission with Doctor Oobleck proved successful.”

This… didn’t sound much like a lecture, or even voicing any sort of disapproval with what she had done. What was the Headmaster getting at? Pyrrha tried running through every possible scenario, but only came up empty. She hadn’t been told why he wanted to see her, only that he wanted Pyrrha in his office “as soon as conveniently available,” which to Pyrrha meant “right the hell now.” So… if it wasn’t about some unknown crime she had committed, then what was all this about?

“I’m sure you’re curious as to why you’re here,” Headmaster Ozpin said.

“The thought did cross my mind once or twice,” Pyrrha replied, nervously laughing.

He smiled, amused by her understatement perhaps? “Miss Nikos, I would like to know why you aren’t applying yourself more.” What did _that_ mean? Pyrrha found herself at a loss for words at his question, and her confused, deer-in-the-headlights look must have clued him in on this. “Mr. Ren is able to hide the emotions of himself and others with his Semblance. Miss Valkyrie can channel lightning into her attacks. We don’t know what Mr. Arc can do. But you… _you,_ Miss Nikos, can manipulate enemy weapons to your favor.”

Pyrrha blinked, unsure where this conversation was heading. “Um… yes, that is an accurate description of my Semblance.”

“So why do you not use it more often?”

The question was heavy like a loaded gun. She had asked herself that same question many times over the years since she first discovered it. Pyrrha had been mugged in Argus when she was nine, and this mugger wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He had a simple blade that he intended to use when he refused to believe that a nine year old girl didn’t have anything more than a few Lien on her, but every strike missed when she willed the knife away. Pyrrha had never much been conscious of it at the time, but she knew that she had been praying, asking for some sort of intervention to save her life.

As it turned out, that divine intervention was her own Semblance, which allowed anything made of iron or steel to bend to her will. Since then, Pyrrha had honed her technique with her magnetic abilities, refined them to a craft that she could utilize without hardly any thought behind it.

“Well,” Pyrrha finally admitted after what felt like ages. “Um… I… it doesn’t feel very sporting to do so.”

“Sporting?” Headmaster Ozpin tilted his head. “A fight for your life is not a game, Miss Nikos.”

Pyrrha nodded. “Yes, but… when I’m learning and training, I don’t see why I should impede somebody’s progress for my own gain.”

“Hmm,” the Headmaster said, stroking his chin. “Very interesting.”

Why did this room suddenly feel a hundred times smaller? How come the walls seemed to close in on her, like the pressure in the room had become overwhelming? What did the Headmaster mean when he termed her answer interesting?

“Miss Nikos, if I may, have you ever wanted to be the leader of Team JNPR?”

Now _this_ was something she had never once considered, even when Jaune was at his lowest point. She emphatically shook her head right away, without even skipping a beat. “Not once.”

“Really? And why not?”

Pyrrha swallowed hard, wetting her lips. “I understood you had a reason for doing it. We are all put into leadership positions for a reason, and I didn’t think it was my place to question that.”

The Headmaster adjusted his glasses, looking at her curiously. Perhaps he was unconvinced of her answer, but it didn’t matter – she had spoken the truth here. “I see. Miss Nikos, do you believe in destiny?”

“D-destiny, sir?”

“Yes, destiny,” he repeated. “Preordination. Fate. Providence. Do you believe you are here because a higher power has willed such a thing?”

Pyrrha blinked again, completely lost as to how their conversation had come to this topic. She thought this was about her performance in school, not a discussion of philosophy and theology. “Uh… I can’t say I know for sure, but I would like to believe there’s something, or someone, watching over me. May I ask why you want to know, sir?”

Headmaster Ozpin smiled again, chuckling slightly. “Ah yes, the ever important question. Miss Nikos, you and your friends may just become the next part of something bigger. I have spoken of this broadly to Miss Rose and her team. Mr. Arc is aware as well, so now it is time to discuss it with you and the rest of _your_ team. Will you join us in this grand crusade?”

She stared back at him, furrowing her brow. What did he mean? How could she agree to fight for something if she didn’t even know what it was yet? “Um… sir, not to be rude of course, but… what are you asking, exactly?”

“The world has more dangers to it than just Grimm. There is a war going on in the shadows, one that we can only trust to be handled by a select handpicked group of people. Miss Nikos, your friends, your team… we believe you can help us in this fight. There is a great evil out there, and we need your help to defeat them. Will you help us?”

The question struck Pyrrha as odd. Not because of the content, but because she honestly had no idea how to answer. The conflict was one of the largest things she had faced so far. On one hand, she did desperately want to help those who couldn’t help themselves, but also… what if? What if this wasn’t what she was meant to do? She had tried to shy away from a life of fame, and if the war was as omnipresent as Ozpin insinuated, well… that may intrude upon those plans. But then again, it was a shadowy war, one where the lines may not be so clear. That didn’t sound like one full of fame.

She sighed heavily, trying to weigh the options in front of her. If she rejected the Headmaster’s plea for help, but all of her friends accepted, then what would that mean for their team cohesion going forward? Would they believe her to be someone who shirked their duty, a coward in face of the ultimate threat? Would she be left alone while they combated this supposed great evil? And on the opposite end of the spectrum, if she said yes, but the rest of her team declined, what would that mean? There was scarcely any comfort to be found even in the middle ground.

“Alright,” Pyrrha finally said. “I’ll do it. How can I help?”

The Headmaster smiled, nodding. “Good. _Good!_ That’s the sort of attitude I like to see, Miss Nikos. For now, I would like you to continue your training and your studying. When I am ready on my end, your team and Team RWBY will have a meeting about a potential threat. I trust you will both be able to take it on without issue.”

“Well… we can certainly do our best, Headmaster.”

“I think you’ll be more than capable of tackling it,” he said. “You are dismissed, Miss Nikos.”

* * *

This was easily one of the best days of Ruby’s life.

In just a month, Ruby would be celebrating not only her birthday but also her and Jaune’s one-year anniversary, with a planned “ultra-special date night” that he had cooked up. He refused to tell her anything about it, and had even managed to cajole Yang, Weiss, Blake, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren into it as well, and each of _them_ kept quiet as well. Her usual avenues of finding out what Jaune was planning to do – primarily Nora or Yang – had been cut off, and maybe for once in her life, she didn’t know what her boyfriend was thinking.

Ruby wouldn’t have it any other way.

It seemed like months ago, when she and her team had been chasing down Roman Torchwick and the White Fang, the world was in chaos and there was nothing she could do about it. But now, long after the field trip, after the Vytal Festival, after all the confusing days and nights spent on missions and in classes and in between drama-filled moments between her friends, her universe had calmed down, allowed Ruby to take a step back and breathe. Another two semesters without anything strange happening freed Ruby’s time up to focus on what really mattered, like spending time with Jaune and honing her weapons skills so that next time, when she went up against upperclassmen from Gorizont, she could beat them and take home the gold for Beacon.

“So, just so we’re clear,” Jaune said, as Ruby leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re a fan of sunflowers, right?”

Immediately, Ruby’s smile changed to a frown, and she practically bolted upright, staring at Jaune like he had gone insane. “What? Who even _are_ you? My name’s Ruby _Rose,_ for-” She blinked, her eyes going wide. “Oh, wait, you’re doing that on _purpose,_ aren’t you?”

“Did you really think I’d forget? Come on, Ruby.”

She laughed, settling back into the comforting spot she had been in before on the couch. “No, I guess not, but… you know. Sometimes I don’t know.”

Jaune flashed his signature smile, the smile that always made her laugh, brought her out of her terrible mood, and warmed her heart when she saw it waiting for her at the end of a long mission or short class period. Just as quickly as he had swapped to teasing her, he was holding her tightly, reassuring Ruby that he would _never_ forget, that anything she told him he always kept in his head. Sometimes, she wondered if that was always a good thing, since he usually remembered small details about her rather than things he really should know in order to be a professional Huntsman.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to tell me what we’re doing for our anniversary?” Ruby asked, knowing full well that he’d never give it up.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he said. “You’ll find out day of, I promise.”

“I’ll get it out of _somebody,_ you know I will.”

Jaune shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I think you’ll like it better if you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Ruby hummed in halfhearted agreement, more willing to just let this moment with Jaune stay as it was. No need to do anything differently now.

However, at almost exactly the same time, their Scrolls buzzed. Confused, the two of them got off of each other and checked their devices. They had messages from their respective teams, a request for a meeting with… Headmaster Ozpin? This must have been what he talked about with his meeting with Ruby. Jaune’s face, once full of joy, was now concerned. They both knew what this meant.

* * *

Teams RWBY and JNPR had been gathered in Headmaster Ozpin’s office, where Glynda Goodwitch stood by as the Headmaster himself paced back and forth. It was like he was incredibly unsettled about _something,_ but nobody could figure out what. He sighed heavily, downing his cup of coffee and slamming it on the desk.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I fear that our enemies are working faster than we anticipated,” Headmaster Ozpin said, folding his hands behind his back. “An attack may be forthcoming.”

“An _attack?_” Blake asked, her voice wavering. “What do you mean?”

Glynda Goodwitch brought up a hologram, listing Roman Torchwick and known White Fang associates and positions on a map, including the known hideout in Mountain Glenn. “Thanks to recon missions undertaken by Team RWBY and other trusted allies, we know that Roman Torchwick and his White Fang splinter group allies have been stockpiling Dust.”

“What are they trying to do with all of it?” Yang asked.

“An excellent question,” Headmaster Ozpin said, sighing. “But one we do not have an answer for. We think they’re planning to assault an important target in Vale, but we don’t know what.”

Ruby frowned, her shoulders heaving like a great weight had been placed upon them. “So… what can we do to help?”

He bowed his head, swallowing hard. “We need to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

In the background, Goodwitch put a finger to her ear, apparently listening to something. The Headmaster returned to pacing, but this was soon interrupted when she headed over to him. “Sir, we have a problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

She sighed, looking incredibly concerned. “There’s a Faunus civil rights protest in downtown Vale happening right now. They’re rallying to protest the trade agreement with Atlas.”

“That… doesn’t sound like an ‘us’ problem,” Weiss said, met by an icy glare from Blake.

“It’s devolving quickly,” Goodwitch further reported. “A… _local source_ says he sees White Fang members in the crowd.”

That settled it. They had to go out, right? The sharp nod that the Headmaster gave them seemed to be proof positive to that. Teams RWBY and JNPR sprinted off without a second’s hesitation.

* * *

The shouts of anger could be heard even from two blocks away. A police loudspeaker had been set up, ordering all those part of the “illegal gathering” to disperse immediately or face imprisonment. This threat didn’t seem to faze the protesters much. The two teams approached carefully, not least of which because there was no telling what would happen if two teams of mostly humans got involved with the protest.

“Okay, so…” Blake muttered, panic rising in her voice. “What’s the plan?”

Ruby swallowed hard, watching the Faunus protesters and policemen hold the line against one another. “I… We need to find the White Fang here, stop them somehow.”

“How are we supposed to do _that?” _Yang shook her head, gesturing to the crowd. “It’s just getting worse.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that. Ruby looked out among the angry crowd, watching Faunus throw rocks at the police. Others dared to jab out with their signs, forcing the police to flinch. The stage was set for something terribly wrong to happen, but where was the trigger? Would the White Fang do it on their own, or was this crowd so angry enough they didn’t even need the extra help?

Before they could even move to try to survey the situation, a shot rang out. Within mere seconds, the police and protesters began to mix as shouting, screams of hurt people, and more gunshots filled the air. The two teams stood frozen in horror, unable to do anything about the unfolding massacre other than watch. Humans and Faunus alike began to disperse as police weaponry overpowered any other sound, until after just a few brutally long minutes the scene fell silent again.

In front of them was a scene of mass carnage. A cursory examination – not that any of the young Huntsmen in training wanted to look closer – revealed there was not a single White Fang member in the crowd. If they were, their membership was hidden, only known to them and Death now. Blood spilled out on the streets, tricking down the cobblestone and into storm drains as those unlucky enough to have sustained multiple shots without dying twitched and moaned. Ruby clearly saw Faunus with holes in them, missing parts of their hands and legs, among other things that clearly should not belong on the outside of a body.

A sharp, arrested sob broke out, which Ruby quickly realized came from Blake. She turned to look at her teammate, watching her bolt off and collapse on a side street just around the corner of the carnage, vomiting as she hit the ground.

“Attention citizens of Vale,” an officer said, standing on a police van. “Disperse now! I say again, disperse now! Anyone caught lingering in this area will be arrested!”

Yang ran over to Blake, quickly joined now by JNPR, Weiss and Ruby. No sense in being caught by the police at this point. “Blake?” Yang asked as she held her friend’s shoulders. “Are you-”

“No, I’m not fucking okay!” Blake shouted, her voice shaking as she cried. “What the fuck kind of question is that?!”

“We… we should go,” Jaune said. “Like, _far_ away from here.”

Ruby and Yang helped Blake up, practically dragging her back to Beacon with the others keeping them safe on the way back. As they ran through the chaos-filled streets, sirens and panicked shouts echoed past them. The police and media were both responding quickly to news of the massacre, and if Ruby’s thinking was right, the Grimm could be close behind. First priority was making sure Blake, and her other friends, were going to be okay. That mattered more than anything else.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, they had returned to Beacon, where Headmaster Ozpin and Glynda Goodwitch met them, their faces wrought with concern. They had heard what happened, and like with Ruby’s concerns, their priority was making sure they were alright. Headmaster Ozpin was very concerned with what had happened, how the situation had devolved so quickly into outright panic. The students did their best to relay what had happened, but between Blake’s descent into a panic attack and the confusing mess of voices that tried to explain it, not much was being made clear.

It was at that point that a shot rang out, and Ruby watched Headmaster Ozpin fall to the ground, his body twisting around as blood spurted out from his shoulder.


	13. Battle of Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war comes to Beacon's doorstep.

If there had been chaos before, by now there was complete and utter mayhem.

The panicked, confused shouts came not just from Teams RWBY and JNPR, but also from nearby students who were, quite understandably, freaking out over the fact that their headmaster had just been shot by an unknown assassin. For now, at least, he still seemed alive, and this quelled at least _some_ of the discord that had been wrought upon the campus. This was just enough to steel Jaune into action, taking a heavy breath and unsheathing his sword.

“Alright, everyone!” he shouted, drawing the attention of his team and Team RWBY. “We need to protect our campus! Who will stand with me?!”

The howl of approaching Grimm answered him. This wasn’t just merely a random attack. This was now what Headmaster Ozpin had been talking about all along. This was now a _war,_ and their enemy had fired the first shots. Ruby swallowed her fear and panic, taking Crescent Rose out and gripping it tightly. “I will,” she said.

Next to Jaune, Nora nodded. “I will too!”

“We _all_ will,” Yang said, as Blake shuddered and shook off her anxiety. Weiss, Pyrrha, and Ren each readied their weapons, turning to face the front gates. After all, where else would the attack come from?

An explosion rocked the ground in front of them, as dirt, concrete, and chunks of marble pillars were sent sky-high. The shrieks of Grimm multiplied and cascaded over one another until they became an incomprehensible mass of noise. As the dust settled and the sky became clear once more, Ruby saw five figures clear as day in front of them. It was Cinder, with her teammates Emerald Sustrai, Mercury Black, and Licorice Grates, alongside Roman Torchwick. They stood almost cocky, like the battle had already been decided well before they even arrived.

“Th-that’s Cinder,” Blake muttered. “What’s she doing here?”

“You!” Glynda Goodwitch shouted, dragging Headmaster Ozpin inside. “Take care of them! I’ll keep the Headmaster safe!”

Well, the obvious thing to do was fight. Ruby looked to her teammates, each one nodding back. They were ready. Jaune took his hand off his shield for only a moment, to hold Ruby’s hand and squeeze it tightly. _I’m always here._ She smiled, all the more prepared to throw down with Cinder and her allies now.

Professors Port and Degroot joined them outside, staring at the newcomers and joint White Fang-Grimm army that had now arrived, flooding out of the hole in Beacon’s campus grounds. Few words needed to be exchanged – Cinder and her team had begun charging ahead to get to the Headmaster, while Roman and Licorice had broke to run amok with the Grimm, causing general havoc. The White Fang themselves decided to begin a path of general destruction. If this didn’t get contained soon, then there’d be a massacre even worse than the one they just witnessed.

“Ruby!” Jaune shouted, dodging shots. “We’ll keep them from getting to Ozpin!”

“Got it!” she replied. “We’ll go after Roman!”

Professor Degroot laughed evilly as he transformed his sword into a grenade launcher, looking at them with a determined eye. “No! We’ll keep the wee lad and his lady friend busy! Ruby, you and your team stop the White Fang, they’re going tae cause us a wee bit of trouble!”

Ruby nodded, rushing off with her team to track down the White Fang. They had to stop them here and now, she told herself. If nothing else, this was _her home._ She _had_ to defend it.

The White Fang had wasted no time in beginning their terror mission. Someone had brought makeshift incendiary bombs, throwing them upon the library and setting club tents ablaze in the common area. The screams mixed with the crackling of wood and canvas as trainee Huntsmen began defending themselves against the incursion. However, it was clear it wasn’t enough. The White Fang mechs were coming out in force, and if the shots from other student’s weapons was any indication, this would be a tough foe to take down.

Team RWBY’s entrance into this foray came without much difficulty, with Yang and Blake charging ahead to start rounding up rogue White Fang members to take down. Weiss stayed in the back to begin supporting them with glyphs and choice shots on enemies, while Ruby acted as a floater, supporting where she was needed. The White Fang didn’t expect them to come into play so quickly, and within mere minutes they began to fall, knocked down and out of the fight as RWBY went through well-rehearsed attack plans.

The mechs, however, proved a different story. Despite being pounded by shots from Crescent Rose and Ember Celica, it didn’t seem like there was much in the way of stopping them. The White Fang members piloting them cackled mercilessly as they used the rocket pods and machine guns to wreak havoc, destroying the ancient facade and stonework of Beacon’s main buildings. Surely, they could be able to do _something_ against this, right?

Team RWBY renewed their attacks on the mechs, trying to take one down even as they realized they would need to concentrate every part of their firepower on it. Unexpectedly, they heard a bizarre shouting.

“What the hell is that?!” Weiss demanded.

Professor Degroot charged in, holding his sword high with a round shield on his arm. He swung his longsword at the mech, which surprisingly enough opened up a decently-sized hole in the thing’s armor. He laughed as he backed off to join up with RWBY, changing his weapon into a grenade launcher and shoving Dust grenades into the revolver-like breech. “Oh, we’ve got a big one here, don’t we?”

“Professor?” Ruby asked. “What happened to Roman and his friend?”

“Aye, the scamperin’ windbag and his wee bunny friend hopped away! They won’t be causing us any trouble, lassies, don’t worry!” Having fully loaded his grenade launcher now, Professor Degroot flicked the barrel back into place, taking it up in his hands. “Let’s _do iiiiiiiiiiiiit!_”

With Professor Degroot backing them up now, Team RWBY resumed assaulting the mech. He provided covering fire with the grenade launcher while Weiss kept the mech’s legs in place for easy saturation fire. Blake baited its operator into attacking ice copies of herself that froze its limbs in place, allowing Ruby and Yang to focus high-caliber explosive fire on the arms that held the mech’s weapons.

With a new assault underway, the left leg and right arm were quickly destroyed, and the operator chose to bail out rather than continue fighting. Professor Degroot took great pride in this, lobbing even more grenades after him as he ran. “You’re weak, I’m strong, and I _win,_ toymaker!”

“There’s another one coming!” Yang shouted.

“Then we’ll do the same thing to it!” Weiss responded, already preparing glyphs.

The mech lumbered towards them, firing off rockets that they dodged and weaved around as they closed the distance. Just like before, they focused fire on its limbs and worked in tandem to start knocking down another mech. It seemed like they had an endless number of these things, if the numbers they saw in the hideout under Mountain Glenn were anything to go by.

And yet, something seemed off. In the chaos and confusion of combat, Ruby realized she had lost track of Blake and Yang. She slammed Crescent Rose’s blade into the ground, slowing her down as a punch from the mech threw her back. Professor Degroot was still throwing grenades at it with almost sadistic glee. Weiss still remained in the back, supporting. But she couldn’t find Blake or Yang.

“Weiss! Where’d Yang and Blake go?!”

“What?!”

Ruby sighed, cupping her hand around her mouth. “_Where are our teammates?!_”

“I don’t know! I thought you knew!”

“No more foolin’ around!” Professor Degroot shouted. “I’ve got a bomb with each and every one of their names on it, and its tae be a special delivery!”

Apparently unimpressed with the boasting, the mech’s operator sent another flurry of rockets at Professor Degroot, which he apparently didn’t see, or couldn’t get out of the way for. The explosion consumed the area he was in, and he flew past Ruby and Weiss, screaming the whole way. By the time he hit the wall on the other side of the courtyard, he was bleeding and slumped over. Obviously, they ran over to him, trying to help.

“Professor!” Weiss said. “Are you okay?”

“Oooooh…” he moaned. “I feel like every bone in me body’s broke.” With a heavy wheeze, his head slumped down. Did they just see their professor pass away in front of them?

* * *

Blake could scarcely believe her eyes.

It made zero fucking sense. There was no logical reason on this earth that, of all people, Adam Taurus would be here, leading this attack on Beacon for the White Fang. When she infiltrated their meetings, nobody had dared to speak his name, ever even made an indication he was involved. She thought this was a subset of the splinter faction, not the entire offshoot itself.

And yet, here he was, standing in front of her with his sword, snarling at her with that mask. His sword glimmered as the moonlight bounced off of it, revealing still-wet blood. Once upon a time, she would have thought this romantic. Now… now she saw the truth. Adam Taurus was nothing but a monster, like the Grimm whose visage he had adopted.

So, if she was so resolute in her stand against Adam, how come she wasn’t doing anything about him?

“Blake?” Yang asked, catching her off-guard. She turned to see Yang approached, narrowing her eyes at Adam. “Who the… okay, this asshole’s _done.”_

Without even waiting, Yang charged at him. Blake scarcely had time to cry out, plead for Yang to stop before she left. Did she ever hear the words that came out of Blake’s mouth? There would never be a way to tell for sure. With a mere flick of his wrist, he lifted his blade and severed Yang’s arm, watching it fall uselessly like a curio more than anything else. With a murderous glint to his eyes behind the mask, he looked first at Yang, and then at Blake. “Next time… next time there won’t be anyone to interfere, _my love._”

* * *

Jaune sighed, struggling to get up. Cinder and her team had just torn through them, no doubt already on her way to try and find the Headmaster. He could taste blood in his mouth. Huh. Fight must have taken more out of him than he thought. Jaune finally found the strength to get to his feet, his sword and shield heavy in his hand.

“Come… come on,” he said, trying to rally his groaning team. “We’ve got to protect the Headmaster.”

On his left, Pyrrha coughed, her hair completely disheveled as she unsteadily rose to her feet. “Jaune, no, we _can’t._ We should back off. This… this can’t be won.”

“She’s right,” Ren said. “You saw how powerful she was. We can’t take Cinder and her team on.”

“If we’re not going to try, then what good _are_ we?!” Jaune demanded, feeling his chest cry out in agony as he shouted. “Didn’t we swear an oath? To defend the Kingdoms? To help those who can’t help themselves?! Headmaster Ozpin can’t help himself, so why should we run?”

Pyrrha put her sword down, grabbing Jaune’s shoulder, staring at him with her green eyes. “Jaune, _please._ Listen to us. We’re no good to anyone if we’re dead. Miss Goodwitch is a skilled Huntress, she can protect him. We should go.”

“No!” Jaune said, shaking Pyrrha’s hand off. “You can run away if you want, but I won’t! I’m not abandoning my duty!”

“We’re not abandoning you, but we’re not going to throw our lives away!” Nora shouted. “Come on, fall back with _us!_”

Jaune coughed, feeling blood trickle down his chin. No, they were wrong. They didn’t understand what was at stake here. He was the only one who could do this. Jaune turned to them, ignoring the pain that was overwhelming his arms and legs. “Go find Ruby’s team. Link up with them, and get out of here.”

“Jaune, wh-”

“_Do it,”_ he ordered. “I’m not saying this as your friend. I’m saying this as your team leader. And… one more thing. Tell Ruby I’m sorry.”

Now blocking out the sound of his team’s protests, the growing pain, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding doom, Jaune walked into the building behind Cinder, possibly heading into Beacon’s administration building for what may be the last time in his life.

* * *

Never in her entire life, did Ruby believe things would get this bad.

Her teammates, her _friends,_ lay in front of her, dejected and sprawled out. Yang clutched her arm’s stump, her breathing short and shallow. Blake looked pale, like she had seen a ghost that had drained every part of her soul. Weiss shook as if she had been chilled by ice. And as for Ruby herself… well, she realized that her head had been pounding for the past fifteen minutes, and her arms ached. A black hole had swallowed her stomach whole, resulting in a dark pit that rested deep inside her and sapped away every ounce of cheer she had upon waking up that morning.

This feeling didn’t go away when JNPR arrived. They were out of breath, battle-scarred and bleeding. Nora was keeping Ren upright, while Pyrrha had a pronounced limp from a bleeding leg wound. As she silently counted off the numbers, Ruby realized something was horribly, terribly wrong.

“Wh-where’s Jaune?” Ruby asked. “Where is he?!”

Pyrrha groaned in pain, her eyes wrought with fear and anxiety. “Ruby, he…” She swallowed a sob, the very noise lodged in her throat. “He went after Cinder.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

All Pyrrha could do was point to the clock tower. That’s where they had taken Headmaster Ozpin, and if Jaune was going after Cinder, then… then Ruby had to get to that clock tower right now.

Ruby stepped off, only to find herself stopped by Pyrrha, tears in her eyes. “Ruby, _please,_ don’t go. I can’t lose another friend.”

“I’m not losing Jaune,” she said, perhaps with a bit more anxiety to her voice than she would have wanted. “_We’re_ not losing Jaune.”

“I know how much you care about him,” Pyrrha said, gesturing with her hands. “But look at what’s happening, Ruby. We… we can’t win this fight. Sometimes it’s better to break off and reorganize than keep fighting a losing battle.”

She stared back at Pyrrha, feeling her eyes well up as it seemed her throat became dryer than any desert in Menagerie. “How can you _say_ something like that to me?” Ruby murmured, shaking her head as she bolted off. Maybe running away fast enough would dry the tears that had now started to flow. The tears clouded her vision as she neared the clock tower, and before she realized it, she had collapsed in front of it. Far up high, Ruby saw the telltale flashes of Dust weapons being used.

The sound of high heels, the same ones she had been hearing all school year, came from behind her. “You know,” Weiss said. “I can help you get up there.”

Ruby sighed, turning to face Weiss as she wiped away tears. “You’d help me do that?”

“Of course,” Weiss said, smiling. “What are friends for?”

Nodding, Ruby took a deep breath and unfurled Crescent Rose. Weiss summoned a group of glyphs that rose to the top of the building, and with one last determined look at Weiss, Ruby ascended as fast as she could to the top of the tower, using the same technique she had utilized to kill the Nevermore at initiation.

Except this time, when she reached the top, Ruby didn’t find herself face to face with the head of a Nevermore. She found herself watching Cinder reach out with her hand to touch Jaune’s forehead, as he knelt in front of her. Before Ruby’s very eyes, she watched Jaune be consumed in flame, his broken sword and charred shield clattering uselessly by his side. The only thing that remained of Jaune after the fire raged for mere seconds were two of his shoulder guards that fell to the floor.

The only thing Ruby remembered next was crying out in anguish so loudly, she was sure even her mother could hear it. Her vision faded to white, and then it was nothing but black.

* * *

Ruby woke up with a start, hoping that it had all just been a terrible dream. As she looked down at herself, having flung off the covers in her panic-induced struggle, she realized it was far too real. The cuts, scrapes and bruises she had sustained in that battle told an indifferent tale that Ruby was unwilling to hear. The Battle of Beacon had most certainly happened, and with it, she had lost so much.

A gentle knock came at the door, and in came Uncle Qrow and her dad. Neither one looked terribly happy, but maybe they were just relieved that she was up. “Hey, kiddo,” Qrow said, pulling up a chair to sit next to Ruby’s bed.

“Please tell me it’s not real,” she whimpered.

“I’m so sorry,” Dad said, reaching down to hold her tightly. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Ruby.”

Qrow sighed, looking down at the floor. “You should know, kid. When we kept telling you that you were special, it wasn’t in a _‘Daddy loves his special angel’_ kind of way. You’ve got a power that your mom had, that nobody’s seen for a long time.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Your silver eyes, kid. I promise we’ll talk about it, but right now, we-”

“Shouldn’t worry about it,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair. “Beacon’s sort of… well, it’s crawling with Grimm. They’ve got it under control, but there’s a Nevermore that’s just _frozen_ at the top of the tower, and it’s attracting even more Grimm.”

Ruby swallowed hard. She never wanted to ask this, but she had to now. “Where’s Yang? Jaune?”

“Yang’s going to be okay,” Qrow said. “She’s tough, she won’t let this get her down.”

“Jaune is…” Dad drew a sharp breath, almost as if he regretted having to say it. “Jaune’s gone. I’m sorry.”

Ruby felt her eyes tear up again, and a short, hesitant sob slipped out. How could anyone recover from this? How could she just bounce back from losing Jaune? Her school? The only life she’d come to know? “So… what’s next?” Ruby asked in between sobs.

“You really want to help?” Qrow said. “Get some rest. I’ve got to pick up where Oz left off.”

“Is he…?”

“We don’t know,” Dad said. “Don’t worry about it, alright? I’m just happy both of my girls are back home.”

Dad and Uncle Qrow left her to rest, but Ruby couldn’t possibly think of sleeping at a time like this. She got out of bed, gingerly walking to Yang’s room. There sat her sister in her bed, what remained of her right arm wrapped in a bandage. She stared out the window, apparently unaware Ruby was even there.

“Yang?”

The silence was deafening. Ruby stood there for a moment, but without any response, she turned to leave. Maybe Yang didn’t want to talk.

“Ruby.”

She turned back, to see Yang was now looking at her with tears in her eyes. Ruby bolted over, immediately hugging her sister. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“But I’m not,” Yang replied, stone-cold. “It’s all gone… the school, Professor Degroot, Jaune, and…” The hollow look Yang gave to her missing arm was all that needed to be said.

“Yang, where’s Weiss and Blake?”

She slammed her eyes shut, tilting her head down. “Weiss’s father… came for her.”

“Huh?”

“Nobody outside Vale knows what happened. Everybody’s scared, nobody knows who to trust. So… Weiss’s father came to take her back to Atlas, where he thinks she’s safe.”

Ruby gulped. “Well, what about-”

“And Blake _ran!_ She just… fucking _left_ us!”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know!” Yang shouted. “I really don’t _care_ right now.”

She blinked, trying to reconcile this in her mind. This didn’t make sense. “Well, there’s got to be a reason she-”

“No! There _doesn’t!_ Sometimes bad things just _happen,_ Ruby.”

“So,” Ruby said, stifling another sob. She had never seen Yang this angry before. “What… what do we do now?”

Yang turned away, looking out the window again. “You can do whatever you want. I’m gonna lie here.”

“Yang…”

Her sister clenched her fist, refusing to even glance over at Ruby. “Just leave me the hell alone.”

Slowly, Ruby nodded, retreating out of the room. Just before she closed the door to Yang’s room, Ruby glanced over her shoulder hoping that she’d be looking at her. Yang wasn’t. “I love you,” Ruby reminded her. It never hurt to say that. After all, she hadn’t told Jaune that before he died. Ruby wouldn’t let anyone else in her life forget it.

* * *

Winter had fallen by the time Ruby felt strong enough to leave her home in Patch, quietly shutting the door behind her. Crescent Rose hung on her side, and a backpack full of her things hung heavily on her shoulders. As she turned to face the world once more, Ren, Nora and Pyrrha stood in front of her, ready to face the cold, the struggles, the conflict.

“Are you guys ready?” Ruby asked.

“We are,” Pyrrha said, nodding.

Ren cleared his throat, stepping forward. “It’ll be a long journey to Haven, and we don’t know if the answers we find there will be what we want.”

Ruby nodded, sighing. At this point, they had to go and find out. The only clue to finding Cinder and her team was at Haven. The way she looked at it, Cinder’s team was either there, or they had gone to the wind, and even if she had eluded them and gone into hiding, _somebody_ had to know _something._ “We have to do it,” she said.

“Alright,” Nora nodded. “Let’s go.”

Ren and Nora immediately turned heel and began walking, but Pyrrha stood in front of Ruby, slinging her pack around. “Um, Ruby, I… I wanted you to have this. They found it at Beacon, and…”

She handed her Jaune’s shoulder guards, still scorched and blackened from the fire that had consumed him. Ruby blinked as every emotion, every memory ever associated with Jaune flooded back to her at once. She felt her heart cry out in anguish, aching to feel his arms around her and tell her she’d be okay.

But Ruby knew full well that the echoes she shouted to the moon each night for Jaune to return would never come back.

Hesitantly, Ruby took the shoulder guards, brushing them with her fingers as if that’d get rod of some of the dirt and grime. “Thank you,” she managed to eke out. “I’ll…”

“It’s okay,” Pyrrha said softly. “Come on, let’s get going. Nora might be halfway to Haven if we don’t get a move on.”


	14. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after the Fall of Beacon, some characters return home, while others never left it.

The ship rocked and bobbed as Blake stood on the deck, watching the Eastern Sea roll past her. Seagulls cawed and crooned above her, occasionally swooping down to land on some part of the ship, stark white dots against the clear blue skies that seemed to go on for miles. It was beautiful, but Blake couldn’t find herself enjoying it. After all, when she had spent months wandering the world, running away from all of her problems, why should she deserve to bask in beauty like this?

Maybe that was why she was heading back home, to Menagerie. Maybe she hoped that by going home, she could be reminded of why she had ever left in the first place, why her answer to Professor Degroot had been to right the world’s wrongs without a solid plan to put it into effect. Blake felt a tear roll down her cheek as she thought of the professor. He had been one of the few to actually recognize her as an equal to her peers, even after he had correctly deduced she was a Faunus in disguise. So how come out of everyone else that day, out of all the people who took up arms, _he_ was the one who had to die? How come Yang, one of her best friends, had to lose her arm?

Why did Blake feel that the best thing she could do was run the hell away and never look back?

“Land ho!” called one of the sailors. “We can drop the act now, fellas! We’re nearing Menagerie!”

Blake sighed, undoing her bow. “Won’t be needing this anymore,” she muttered, tucking it away. If only for as long as her visit on Menagerie lasted, she wouldn’t have to disguise herself, feel the soft velvet fabric against her ears all the time. God, it was so hard having to keep her ears straight with that thing tickling them all the time. She headed to the bow of the ship, watching Menagerie’s only port come into view.

Home never felt comfortable to go back to.

As the ship rolled lazily into port, Blake raked her eyes over Menagerie, noting every change and difference between what she saw and the memories of her homeland. Only a year and a half had passed, but it seemed like everything had only gotten worse since. She looked on in pain, watching as starving children wandered the streets, desperate for even a scrap of a bone to eat. Shadowy men and women hid around corners, claws, fangs and blades sharpened, all too eager to prey on a tourist who didn’t know any better. The White Fang wouldn't be hurting for recruits with this many desperate Faunus in the streets.

Of course, maybe they wouldn't be so desperate if the police were any better than the terrorists they were supposed to be fighting. Blake scoffed just thinking about it. Menagerie’s civil protection services were government-sanctioned thugs, racketeering and profiting off of “protection money” for stores. Pay up, or they wouldn’t even _pretend_ to investigate the latest robbery, or arson, or massacre to befall the shop. Between Menagerie’s meager natural resources and the parasitic police, it was a small wonder anyone managed to keep a store open around here in the first place.

Blake walked through the port, warily watching the Faunus from the corner of her eye. They stared at her with dead, soulless eyes, as if they hated the association she had with the world outside of Menagerie. To them, Atlas, Vale, Gorizont, Vacuo and Mistral were to blame for their lot in life here. How often had she heard claims that it was better to try to “pass” as a human than even attempt to scratch out a life in Menagerie? And that was only for the ones with the money to make it out. The rest were trapped. No hope, no prospects, no future.

Soon, the grime and despair of the port faded away, only to be replaced by oppressive doom as she headed into the inner city. The air itself felt full of fear and anxiety, as if the poison that drove people to murderous desperation was a tangible thing. She felt stick to her stomach just _being_ here, avoiding threats on every corner. Eventually, Blake managed to get to home. She couldn’t help but feel relieved when she sighted the familiar door, noting more than a few new scratch marks gouged deep in the wood. Gingerly, Blake knocked on the door, knowing full well Dad’s inclination to shoot first rather than ask questions when people unexpectedly knocked on the door.

Between muted whispers, the clear sound of a shotgun being racked, and quiet footsteps that neared the peephole, Blake held her breath in nervous anticipation. It had been a _long_ time since she had been home, and she didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with her parents. She could only hope that they’d be willing to accept her for however long she’d be back home.

There was a short gasp on the other side of the door. “It’s her!” Mom said, quickly throwing open the locks and door itself. In a blur, Mom had wrapped Blake up in a hug, dragging her inside as Dad locked the door behind them.

“It’s been so long,” Dad said as the shotgun clattered to the floor. “We heard what happened in Vale at that protest, at Beacon, and…”

“It’s okay,” Blake said, feeling her eyes well up. “I’m okay. We all are.”

The scene of bliss was interrupted only by gunshots and screaming a few doors down, reminding Blake why she had ever left in the first place. This was never the life that Mom and Dad wanted for her, and they made sure she knew it. She assumed the only thing that kept them from being killed in the night was that Dad could ruthlessly murder any intruder, and White Fang connections kept them respected.

But now, years later, after Dad had stepped down from his leadership position, did the radical White Fang that she had attached herself to care about that? As she and her parents broke for tea, catching up on what they had been doing since the day she left, Blake couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop. Dad kept a careful eye on the door, as if he was afraid of something. He always had reason to be.

Twenty minutes later, as Blake had just finished talking about her performance in the Vytal tournament, a knock came at the door. On instinct, Dad reached for his gun, but relaxed visibly. “Damn it! The meeting, I forgot!” Dad said, pounding his fist on the table.

“Ghira…” Mom said, always on hand to keep Dad’s anger in check.

Dad sighed, getting up from the table. “Give me a moment.”

“Is everything alright?” Blake asked once Dad got out of earshot.

“Yes dear,” Mom said, nodding. “Just bad timing. He can reschedule, it’s just been hard dealing with them lately.”

Blake wasn’t sure if she liked the way Mom said “them.” She looked at Mom curiously. “Dealing with who?”

“Hmm? Oh, the White Fang.”

She was on her feet before even cognizant of it. Blake rushed to the door, two fox Faunus standing just outside in classic White Fang ceremonial robes and keeping their hands clasped in front of them like mirror images.

“Oh, Miss Belladonna,” one of them said, nodding to her. “We had no idea you had returned.”

“What are you doing talking to these people?” Blake demanded, ignoring the two.

Dad blinked, no doubt unsure why she was upset. “This is Corsac and Fennec Albain. They represent the White Fang here in Menagerie now,” he explained.

“These _fanatics_ slaughtered people!”

Dad furrowed his brow, turning to the twins. “What is she talking about?”

“Precisely what we came here to discuss, Your Grace,” one of them said, bowing apologetically.

Blake scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ll tell you what _they_ won’t. The White Fang was at the Fall of Beacon. They murdered innocent civilians and released Grimm into the school.”

An eerie silence soon fell. Dad’s eyes shifted between her, back to the twins. “Is this true?”

“Sadly, Your Grace, it is.”

Blake narrowed her eyes at the twins. They were hiding something. She could just tell. Meanwhile, Dad merely clenched his fists, closing his eyes. “Explain yourselves.”

“Though it pains us to admit, it has become apparent that the Vale branch of the White Fang is no longer operating under the orders of High Leader Kahn. Rather, they’ve elected to follow the rule of one Adam Taurus. I believe you’re all familiar with his… _extreme_ philosophies.”

“This wasn’t the _first_ time they’ve done something like this,” Blake shot back, crossing her arms.

“The High Council had suspicions on a splinter group, but this latest incident is proof positive to it.”

Blake could barely contain her disgusted scoff. “_Incident? _People are _dead!_”

“And it is a tragedy.”

“Your Grace,” the other one said, “we came to assure you that Brother Taurus and his followers do _not_ represent the will of the White Fang.”

Dad narrowed his eyes, staring at the twins coldly. “And how can I be sure of that?”

“We understand if you hold some skepticism to these claims. We admit, our methods are more aggressive since you have stepped down, but this is _no way_ to make our message heard. We have ample documentation, and some strategies to arrest and punish those responsible if you would like to review them.”

“I will,” Dad said. “Another day. For now, I would like to spend some time with my daughter.”

“But of course, Your Grace, we completely understand.” One of them turned to Blake, nodding his head. “It was a pleasure to see you again, young Blake. We hope you all have a pleasant day.”

The twins left, leaving Blake even more disturbed than she had been upon first arriving here. She had seen it first hand – the White Fang were not turning over a new leaf. This was not the work of a misguided few, Adam was fully in charge and the High Council was well aware of what the Vale branch was doing. Though, there was little she could do. The White Fang practically ran things around here, and it wouldn’t do well for her to befoul them so soon upon returning.

“Nevermind them,” Dad said, closing the door once again. “Well, it’s getting late, I’m sure you’ve had a long journey to get here, Blake. Your room is the same as it’s been, we… we didn’t think it was our place to go through anything in there.”

Blake nodded, sighing heavily. “Alright, thank you both. I… I didn’t want coming home to be like this.”

“We’ll see you in the morning, Blake,” Mom said, nodding. “Come on, honey.”

Mom and Dad left to their room, and Blake headed to hers as well. They were right – it looked almost exactly like it had the night she left, down to the scattered crap she had left on the floor as she rushed to pack her things before taking off forever. It was like she had never actually left, as if Blake had just gotten a moment of wanderlust and just came back home a few minutes later no worse for wear.

Underneath her bed, there was a box of mementos she had gathered and collected. An old White Fang flag was among them, back from when Dad was still in charge. Instead of the blood-red wolf’s head that now marked their territory and propaganda, it was a white, almost sorrowful-looking wolf. Back then, it had been meant to signal their willingness to cooperate with humanity. Now, the symbol was just anger and hatred. There was an old picture in here too, taken when she was fourteen and had just met Adam. How young and naive she had been then, to think that they could affect anything. Where was this picture taken? Was it in Vale, or closer to Mistral? In the end, Blake contemplated whether it even mattered.

Memories of the night she left haunted her. It was the same night that Dad had decided to step down as High Leader. It felt like the apartment complex still shook with her raised voice and Dad’s fist against the walls, punching even more holes into it than had ever existed before. She remembered how clearly she had pledged her life to Adam and his cause, and how quickly Dad had said if that was what Blake wanted, then he didn’t care to see her again. And so, her long history of running away from her problems began. Mom had wanted to try to mend the chasm between them, but Blake had left before her mind could ever be changed.

She had never wanted to admit that Dad was right, that soon enough she’d see Adam’s true colors. He had tried to warn her, but with Blake under the delusion that what she and Adam were doing was called love, she refused to listen. Like with her parents, Blake had run away from Adam, refusing to confront him or even admit that she had fallen out of love with him.

And, of course, a scant few months ago, Blake had run away from her team rather than stand by their side as the world threw another curveball that destroyed her own confidence. What sort of coward was she, where the only solution she ever had was to run away and hope the world would fix itself for her? She sighed heavily, folding the White Fang flag up and putting it away. She should have been there for her team. She should have been there for Yang. Maybe if she hadn’t run, then Professor Degroot wouldn’t have died.

Blake cried herself to sleep that night, hopelessly lost in the way of solutions.

* * *

For a moment, it felt like only a blink of an eye had passed since Yang had returned home and Ruby left. Before she knew it, winter had passed and it was summer again. Honestly, Yang hated summer. It reminded her too much of Mom, and not just because she had been named after the season. Around this time was when Mom had gone away for her last mission, a nebulous task that nobody, not even Dad, wanted to talk to her about. For other people, summer heralded the arrival of warm weather and time with friends, but for Yang, it was as cold and depressing as Atlas’s worst winter.

Her feelings of gloom weren’t helped by near constant panic attacks and nightmares that tormented her. There wasn’t a single room in this house where she was safe. When she did the dishes, even something as simple as a glass slipping out of her hand could send her into a panic-induced episode, latching her hand onto the counter with a grip that cracked the linoleum. When she went to bed, the moon’s light cast shadows that danced and raved, alternating between visages of Adam creeping outside her window to the sight of flames just beyond the walls. Sleep itself twisted every memory she ever had of Beacon, presenting her with corrupted versions of Ruby, Weiss, Blake and all her other friends, cut down like grass against the blades of a lawnmower. Every time she thought the nightmares ended, they came back with an intensity that had her screaming as she woke up, struggling to identify what was real, and what was merely a product of her own personal hell.

Try as she might, nothing Yang ever tried helped. Following Dad’s advice, she drank tea. It only made her head hurt. When Professor Wellers stopped by, visiting Patch to seek out employment at Signal Academy, he suggested beating the hell out of every Grimm in a two kilometer radius. Yang couldn’t even find the strength to tie her shoes to walk out the door. Doctor Oobleck recommended meditation. All Yang got out of _that_ was a cut from falling asleep and hitting the coffee table.

To make matters worse for her, she was doing all of this on top of trying to cope with only having one arm. When she managed to forget the sensation of her arm separating from her body, Yang could still feel it there, stretch out her fingers and clench her hand as if she had never been maimed. All the family friends and surviving schoolmates said that she’d be able to bounce back from losing her arm, get used to it, but as time went on Yang stopped believing it. The fact she could forget she had ever fucking lost it reminded her how all too real the loss had been. How the hell could she be a Huntress if she couldn’t even fight?

All these thoughts clouded her head as she headed out to get the mail. Some days, she couldn’t help but feel as if her head was in the clouds, perpetually above it all and just watching herself go about the day. Yang had just realized she had no idea what day of the week it was, and hadn’t known for maybe a month. She shook her head, trying to push the thought out of her mind. It didn’t help to dwell on it. The mailbox looked full today. Wasn’t the weekend yet.

But, strangely enough, today there was a package in it. Puzzled, Yang pulled it out, turning it over in her hand to figure out where the fuck it came from. Uncle Qrow? And for _her?_ What the hell had Uncle Qrow sent her? Still confused, Yang tucked the package under her arm, heading inside with the usual junk mail of the day. Inside, Dad sat on the couch reading the day’s paper, not even looking up as she came in.

“Hey, Dad,” Yang said, tossing the mail on the coffee table. “What’d Uncle Qrow send me?”

Dad put down the paper, a look of surprise on his face. “Uh… I don’t know. First I’m hearing about it. Wh-oh, I see.”

On instinct, Yang reached for her pocket knife before reality slapped her in the face again. She had always worn it on her right side, and without her right hand, there was never a need to put it back there. _God,_ this fucking sucked. She stewed uselessly while Dad dragged the box over to him, easily cutting through the tape that held it together. Yang took the honor of actually opening it, spotting a note inside. Qrow’s usual sloppy handwriting made reading the damn thing difficult, but the gist she got from it was that somehow, someway, her uncle had commissioned someone to build her a custom-tooled prosthetic arm that perfectly matched the one she had lost – excluding the fact that this one had a shotgun built into it, of course.

“Hey, this is looking pretty good, Yang,” Dad said, clearly more enthusiastic about this than Yang was. “Want to try it on?”

She stared at the metal arm, still in the gray primer it had been when it was manufactured in the factory. It didn’t look like her. Yang knew it would never _be_ her. It would just be something fake, an artificial element that made her even less human than she was before losing her arm. She swallowed, shaking her head as she turned away and headed out to the garage. “Maybe later. I’ve gotta… do something.” In truth, avoiding it was better than anything else right now. Yang didn’t think she’d ever get used to not having an arm, but she wasn’t ready to commit to this prosthetic yet. After all, she had just gotten halfway used to only having one hand. How could she suddenly go back to using two now, _and_ relearn how to fucking use the other one?

Getting absorbed in trying to work on Bumblebee one-handed was far more worthwhile than dwelling on this bullshit anyway. Monkeying away on the engine had to be worth something, right? Maybe if she was lucky, she could actually figure out where the fuck all the goddamn oil was leaking from. So far, it wasn’t looking likely. Yang would have to take the entire goddamn engine apart at this rate. She tried to loosen one of the gaskets with only one hand, but that was proving impossible without twisting herself around to keep the fucking thing in place. Maybe if she tried resting her knees against it, that would help.

“_Fuck!_” Yang yelled as the wrench slipped out of her hand and slammed into her foot. Incensed, she grabbed the wrench and flung it as far away from her as she could, impaling it sideways in the wall. “You fucking useless ass goblin bitch hound! Goddammit!”

“You kiss _me_ with that mouth?” Dad asked. Yang whipped around, her face beet red. She didn’t think he had wandered out here, much less bore witness to her meltdown. He didn’t even look fazed, much less disappointed, merely just leaning against the garage door.

“Sorry, Dad,” Yang muttered, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m just… been trying to fix this for weeks.”

Dad looked over her work, shrugging. “It’s okay to ask for some help, you know. I’m more than happy to help you out with the bike if you want me to.”

Shifting her weight nervously, Yang rubbed what was left of her arm. She’d never really been shy about asking Dad to help out with Bumblebee before when she had just gotten it, but now… it felt like a lot more things were at stake than just an oil change and pumping up the tires. And by now, Yang began to suspect they both knew they weren’t _just_ talking about the bike anymore. “Dad, it’s okay, really. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” he said, casting a suspicious glance towards her. “Because-”

“Dad, really,” Yang insisted. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He knelt down, still looking at her with a wary eye before turning his attention to Bumblebee. “Gasket’s loose,” he muttered. “Seal looks a little worn, too.”

She let out a subdued chuckle, finding herself smiling. “Thanks, Dad. Can you grab me some water, please? I’m gonna try and get this back on.”

“Sure,” Dad said, smiling as he stood back up. “Next time I run into town, I’ll get you a couple new gasket seals too, alright?”

Yang nodded, already back to figuring out how the hell to undo her rage-filled fuckup on her bike. “Yeah, thanks Dad.”


	15. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlas is not all that Weiss remembers it to be.

Weiss stared out the window, looking upon Atlas’s cold streets with the same disdain that she had when she first left to go to Beacon. From the Schnee family estate, looking down on the eponymous city was like being locked in her own personal Tower of Babel, where she and her family remained ignorant to the plight of the people of Atlas. Before ever leaving for Beacon, Weiss believed she knew how the world worked, was self-confident in how right she was, entitled to delude herself that she was on the right side of history.

But, meeting that girl from Gorizont, who so openly looked down on the Faunus that she declared them to be a “problem” to be exterminated from the world, finding out her teammate and – if she was inclined to confess her sins as if she was in church – one-time crush was a Faunus, combined with coming back home with the knowledge that Atlesian technology had directly led to Beacon’s downfall, that the world did not look upon Atlas with the same lofty pedestal she had put it on… all of it combined to terrorize Weiss, shatter her worldview and bring it crashing down. Growing up, Weiss had looked upon Atlas as a city of progress, where nothing could go wrong.

Now, she saw it for how dirty and unclean it truly was.

Sure, the maintenance droids ensured that there was no trash. Sweepers kept dust and dirt off the streets, running every single night without rest. But Weiss could look beyond the surface, saw that underneath the fine silk ties, polished leather shoes and clutched pearls that the people of Atlas were as dirty and rank as any outsider they derided. More than anything, she could tell just how afraid people were.

It didn’t take long for her to remember why she had left. Being a Schnee did have its privileges, such as actually having the _freedom_ to leave Atlas and seek out a life contrary to the paternalistic propaganda and education she had received. How often had Weiss heard that, despite her name and obvious skill, her purpose in life was better suited as a homemaker and bearer of children? Weiss considered it a minor miracle that Winter was even as well-respected as she was, though the family name probably didn’t hurt.

Even just occasionally touring the streets showed Weiss how truly corrupt and demoralizing life in Atlas was. Whiteshirts patrolled daily, on the lookout for anyone who dared to step out of line. Those who did, well, she had seen first-hand – they were strung up and forced to drink Dust oil, with promises of even more severe punishments should they dare try anything else. Of course, she didn’t even need to _see_ this happening outside the private walls of the Schnee estate. Whitley was a member of the youth wing of the Whiteshirts, dressing in the most pristine white shirt, cap, and knickerbockers he owned every single time he stepped outside. When he came home, Weiss was subjected to his grandstanding about how many other young men he had fought in order to preserve the Schnee family name’s “honor” or to “punish” the latest enemy of the state.

Weiss hated living here. She should never have come back home.

A knock came at the door, to which Weiss turned. Father stood there, with his usual aloof look about him that mixed with the sort of unabashed sneer he always wore. Weiss knew what he never said directly – how _dare_ she leave Atlas. How _dare_ she go to Beacon against his wishes. Who did Weiss think she was, to so flagrantly violate the sacred commandments he handed down upon his family? Still, he wanted something, and so Weiss remained quiet, silently requesting to know why Father had come to her room.

“Weiss,” he said quite simply, though his words dripped with scorn. “I would like you to check up on things at the Number Three mine. After all, if you’re to take over the company, you need to become intimately familiar with the process.”

She swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Father.” She vaguely knew where this mine was. One of many that the company owned, and rather than give each one a name, they were just numbers on a sheet of paper. Weiss would probably even have a driver take her directly to it, so maybe it didn’t even matter if she knew where it was or not.

* * *

Weiss scanned the approaching wrought iron fence that demarcated the boundaries of the Number Three mine, marked with ominous warnings to keep out and that trespassers would be shot. Notices posted inside the gates reminded the workers that anyone caught stealing would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Knowing how litigation-happy her mother had been in the past, Weiss believed that there wasn’t a single soul who doubted the veracity of the threat. Armed guards checked her identification, letting her through without any trouble as they cleared the vehicle she was riding in.

The whir of machinery and unclear shouting filled the air the second Weiss stepped out, escorted by no less than four guards as she walked to the main office. Here, it was little more than a corrugated steel shack, populated by bored-looking workers who tensed up the millisecond they saw her approach. The stench of raw Dust permeated even though the thick glass windows, burning Weiss’s nose as she approached the mine’s manager.

“Ah, Miss Schnee!” he said, nervously putting down his cup of coffee as he stood up. “What a… _pleasant surprise_ to see you! Uh, I can personally assure you that everything here is under control!”

“I’m sure it is,” Weiss said. “I’m sure you know why I’ve been sent here. Show me how this mine operates, and the challenges you face.”

The manager put on quite possibly the worst fake smile that Weiss had ever seen in her life, cringing as he nodded. “Of course! Well, first off…”

Weiss listened patiently as he dived into a well-rehearsed lecture concerning the day-to-day operations of the mine. He led her through handling his subordinates, managing finances, dealing with worker complaints, and of course, writing reports that he sent to company headquarters. Not much was news to her – before going to Beacon, Weiss had briefly been tutored in the broad art of running a business. “Show me the workers themselves,” Weiss said after fifteen minutes, preempting another presentation about the benefits of Atlesian anti-union laws. At this, the manager blinked, caught completely off-guard.

“Th-the workers?” he stuttered. “M-miss Schnee, if I may ask, why-”

“You’re not paid to ask me stupid questions,” Weiss snapped. “You’re paid to tell me what I want to know and show me the things I ask for.”

The manager drew a sharp breath, nodding as he swallowed hard. “Y-yes, of course Miss Schnee, if you and your… _vigilant_ guards will follow me…”

Now being escorted by her guards and the nervous manager, Weiss was taken to the workers in their camps, in the mine itself, and in their break area. In nearly each one, she was ordered to wear a protective helmet, and zealously watched over by her guards who seemed even more on edge than usual. It didn’t take her long to figure out why. Weiss could plainly see how the Faunus workers stared at her with intense, hate-filled eyes. Not a single soul there was unaware that she was a Schnee, and right now? She was representing the very thing that they hated with every fiber of their being. Weiss felt a lump form in her throat as she looked upon them, watching the Faunus struggle against the chains and manacles they had been locked to. Each group of workers was five imprisoned souls, nothing more than skin and bone.

She had long lost track of whatever the manager was saying, unable to tear her eyes away from the horror in front of her. It was as if a thousand pairs of eyes were set upon her, just _waiting_ for Weiss to mess up. The Faunus here must have had a long, _long_ time to think about what they would do if they were ever lucky enough to be freed from their shackles – Weiss shuddered to think what dreams of chronic and sustained cruelty awaited her should her guards fall lax for even a split second. Occasionally, one of them lashed out and made a move for her, but each time they would be cowed away by a shotgun or submachine gun leveled at them by her guards.

“You fools!” someone shouted. Weiss looked to the source of the voice – it was a fat cat Faunus, dressed far better than any other Faunus here had access to, she suspected. He had a Schnee Dust Company safety hat on, sneering at his imprisoned comrades. “You should be _grateful_ that Miss Schnee is gracing us with her presence today! No doubt she has come here to inspire us to work harder! Miss Schnee, how are you? I so wish I could have been there for your arrival back home to Atlas.”

“Uh, excuse me,” she muttered, uneasily watching the chained Faunus back away. “I don’t believe we’re acquainted.”

He gasped, as if he had just remembered he had forgotten his keys. “Of course! How rude of me, I am Perry Gepard, Number Three Mine union representative!”

_Union representative?_ Weiss thought unions had been outlawed under Atlesian law. “I see,” she said. “I was under the impression that-”

“Unions were banned?” Mr. Gepard said, preempting her question. “Yes, yes, of course. Well, Menagerie complained and complained until finally Atlas couldn’t ignore them, so I was appointed to represent the will of the Faunus workers here. Ugh, you should _listen_ to these animals sometimes, their complaints are just _dreadful!_”

The barely-concealed contempt from the Faunus around them informed Weiss that this “union representative” wasn’t anything more than a figurehead. Even his choice of words and clear snorts of derision made it abundantly clear to Weiss he held as little love for his fellow Faunus as most Atlesian citizens did.

“Intriguing,” Weiss said. “Well, I would like to continue my tour, Mr. Gepard, so if you could…?”

“Oh! Of course!” he said, holding his hands up and giving _far_ too much way to her. “Please, don’t let me impede you! I’ll make sure these other _animals_ scurry off and don’t cause you any trouble!”

The tour continued from there, with Weiss only feeling her anger grow with the passing moment. Blake had been all too right – but back then, she didn’t want to admit it. Now, Weiss couldn’t reject the evidence staring her in the face. The Faunus here were being _abused_, imprisoned and worked to death in a system that didn’t even want them in the first place. This was truly how Atlas kept itself as “pure” as the propaganda claimed, by elevating the bootlickers like Mr. Gepard and grinding into dust anyone who wouldn’t be party to the system.

Weiss returned home pretending to be indifferent to the plight of the Faunus and the inner goings-on of the mine. Deep inside, though, there was a fire in her to reverse every single wrong the Schnee Dust Company had inflicted. Weiss may not be able to see change happen in her life, but she would not be another Schnee who simply sat by and did nothing while the world burned.

* * *

As per usual when Weiss returned home from ventures away from the estate, Father waited for her. He stood in the foyer, expecting the same verbal report that she had been raised to give. It scarcely mattered where Weiss went – whether it was to school, out with the few genuine friends she had, or even a walk around the grounds, Father wanted to know who Weiss had spoken to, what she had seen, and how she expected to use this experience to further the goals he assigned to her.

“I see you’ve made it back from the mine safely,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. “So, what do you have to say about it?”

Weiss sharply exhaled. In the past, she had dreaded these descriptions. Today, however, she looked at Father not like a scared little girl, fearful of saying the wrong thing, but a confident Huntress, fully prepared to weather any storm. “It was atrocious,” she said.

Father seemed unfazed. “Hmm. I hadn’t realized that management there had declined to such a sad state. We had been wondering why it was underperforming – perhaps it’s time to shut it down for good.”

“I’m not talking about the management,” Weiss corrected, crossing her arms. “Father, what we’re doing to the Faunus there is _criminal._ It’s abuse, neglect, and outright rejection of their very humanity. We would never _dare_ to treat anyone else the way we treat the workers at that mine. I see now why the mines suffer so many Grimm attacks.”

Almost as if caught off-guard, Father blinked, his eyebrows rising in unmitigated shock. In a flash, though, his shock had turned to the cold anger that she knew all too well. “I _knew_ it was a mistake letting you go to that glorified liberal arts school. It’s a good thing it was burned to the ground.”

“I lost _friends_ there!” Weiss shouted. “How _dare_ you say something so callous!”

“Weiss, that so-called _Academy_ put some strange ideas into your head. Don’t forget, this is how the world _is._ The Faunus have shown themselves to be a threat, which is why we have them the way they are in our mines. They cannot be trusted to keep themselves safe.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “So you keep them imprisoned, under constant guard, working them to death to… to what, save a Lien? You always wondered why people hate Atlas and our company, Father? This is why! It’s because we murder and destroy families! We are _killing_ those Faunus, and their blood is on _our_ hands!”

Before she could even blink, Father had closed the distance with her, smacking her across the face with a backhand blow that, again, she was all too familiar with. That familiarity didn’t make it sting any less, however. “_You_ are talking _nonsense!_” he declared, his anger now spilling over to his voice. “Do I need to remind you of every single cousin, niece, nephew, aunt, and uncle you have _lost_ to those _**animals?!**_ Do I need to take you to their gravestones, or would you prefer to see the photos of their crime scenes?”

She steeled herself, panting heavily as she recovered from the shock of being slapped. It looked like all the sparring she had done with Yang had helped her take a hit, and yet it still hurt as if she had just been struck for the first time. “I’m not apologizing,” she quietly said. “They were _complicit._ We _all_ are. I refuse to stand by and let these atrocities continue.”

With a harrumph, Father readjusted his waistjacket, turning away from her. “Well, then,” he said. “Since you are so insistent on adhering to these delusions of grandeur, perhaps the company would be better served with somebody else at the helm. Until you remember who you are, Weiss, and stop acting so childish and face _reality,_ your brother Whitley will take control of the company when he is of age. You… you will not earn a penny.”

“_What?!_” Weiss shouted. “How _dare_ you! After all I’ve-”

“Don’t play the fool, Weiss. Do you think I wasn’t aware of your research into stolen Dust shipments? Did you honestly believe that those files wouldn’t be carefully watched? I had my concerns the moment you left for Beacon, but this just confirmed that I was right. Be _grateful_ that I’m not turning you in to the Whiteshirts right now for your outright seditious behavior.”

_The Whiteshirts._ The threat of them bearing down on her was enough to coerce Weiss into silence. Strong as she was, not even she could resist the will of the Atlesian state and their thugs.

“Go to your room,” he ordered. “I don’t care to see you outside of it until dinnertime.”

* * *

Weiss had now been locked in her room for nearly a month, only allowed to leave for meals and to take care of personal matters. Despite all the work she had put in, how much she had grown to not just become a deadly warrior, but a self-assured woman who knew her worth in the world, Weiss could not help but revert to the same procedures and follow the orders of the Schnee patriarch. She hated how easily she had come back to realizing the role of an obedient daughter, dutifully listening to her father without question or backtalk after her punishment. For a moment, she _believed_ that the propaganda was right, that her only use was to be a homemaker and good wife to somebody.

Then again, Weiss had also once believed that the Faunus that fought against her family’s company had made it personal. She knew the truth now – it had never been about the name. It was always about how the Schnee Dust Company brutalized the Faunus under their ownership, treated them as subhuman garbage barely even fit for the dangerous work tasked to them. It was always about just being able to be _free,_ exist without threat of murder, lethal work, and deliberate neglect that led to who knows how many deaths.

A knock came at the door, causing Weiss to involuntarily jump. Father had not wanted to talk to her for a long time, not while she still refused to come around to his demands that she abandon her ideals and follow the company line. Slowly, Winter opened the door, her face wrought with concern as she walked in. Weiss breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she got off her bed, embracing her sister. She hadn’t seen Winter since the Vytal Tournament, an event that felt like decades ago.

“I heard what happened between you and Father,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Weiss lied. “I just… I suppose I’ll be locked in here forever.”

Winter scoffed, breaking from the hug and gesturing to her room. “And waste all the practice space you have? Do you have any idea how many times Father imprisoned me in _my_ room?”

Of _course_ she had been practicing. The art of the Schnee family Semblance had not been lost on Weiss. In addition to the glyphs she used in combat to aid herself and allies, Weiss had been practicing with summoning familiars, visages of defeated Grimm to aid her. Typically, they were copies made of ice, but lately she could create miniature Boarbatusks that manifested in pure darkness, like the gravity glyphs she was fond of utilizing. “I’m almost as good as you are, Winter,” she said, folding her arms as she smirked.

“I’m sure,” Winter said, a sly smile crossing her sister’s face. “Look, Weiss… I think you and I both know you won’t ever be leaving this room if you stick to your guns.”

Groaning, Weiss shook her head, sitting back down on her bed. “Winter, I swear, if you’re going to tell me to pay him lip service –“

“Far from it. I want to help you.”

“I’ve heard _that_ before. Whitley’s already given me some _advice_ of his own.”

Winter laughed, taking a seat next to her. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not quite drinking the same wine that our young brother is. Did Ozpin tell you that I’m part of his inner circle?”

“You are?” This was definitely news to Weiss. She knew that General Ironwood had close relations with the Headmaster, but Winter? Though, given her proximity to the General, maybe that wasn’t unusual. The Headmaster probably appreciated how closely Winter operated to the official Atlesian military structure.

“We need help. Your friends need help, especially with Ozpin gone. So, I can help you leave Atlas and get back to helping Ozpin, as long as you promise me one thing.”

This seemed almost too good to be true, but right now? Weiss didn’t much have a choice. She _needed_ to get out of Atlas, before she found herself visited by Whiteshirts in the night and strung up to a tree, or worse. “Anything. What is it?”

“Don’t _ever_ go to Gorizont, for _any_ reason whatsoever,” Winter warned. Her voice was deathly serious, and judging by the look on her face, Weiss fully believed that whatever the reason behind this dire warning, she ought to heed it. “It’s not safe there for you, or any of your friends. If what we do for Ozpin leads us there… then I want you to let me handle it. Is that understood?”

Weiss nodded, swallowing hard. “I understand,” she said. “Do you know where my team is? Maybe I can-”

“No, it’s too risky to take you straight to them, even if I _did_ know where they were.” Winter took a folded note out of her bag, handing it to Weiss. “I’ll ask Klein to make sure your door is unlocked after Father goes to bed. Be here at this time, and not a second later. I can get you to Mistral that way.”

Weiss looked over the note, confused. “Mistral? Why there?”

“That’s not important,” Winter replied, quickly making her way out of the room. “Make sure you hide that.”

Father was all too fond of “random” room inspections. But, eighteen years of living here meant she was well aware of the sorts of things he did and didn’t check, the tricks he thought he could pull on Weiss. By the time Winter had told her to keep it a secret, Weiss had already thought of seven different places to hide the note. “Winter?” Weiss said quietly. Her sister paused, turning back to face her for a moment. “Thank you, truly.”

Winter smiled, nodding. “Of course. Good luck out there, Weiss.”


	16. Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby, Pyrrha, Ren and Nora reach the town of Kuroyuri, but amidst the ruins and rubble, the Grimm are not the main threat.

Ruby felt like she had spent years on the road. In her head, she knew it had only been a few months, but between fighting Grimm daily, helping the people they came across, and the stab in her heart every time she dared to remember Jaune, each day felt like weeks. They had all changed, beyond just getting older, to suit the new climate they were heading for. Mistral’s long, warm, humid days meant Ren swapped out his long-sleeved shirt for one without sleeves. Nora abandoned her vest, picking up a bomber jacket that she thought looked “cool” somewhere along the road to Mistral. Today, Ruby had decided on a blouse, black skirt, and a corset that she remembered being told that Mom had once worn. Pyrrha complemented her existing corset with a brown crop top that exposed her shoulders, adding a pair of long pants with enough pockets to comfortably carry anything Ruby imagined they’d need on their further travels.

If everything went according to plan, they could get to Haven fairly quickly. Their map was crude, one that Pyrrha fully admitted was unsure as to its date of print, but it was serving them well so far.

“By my estimations,” Ren said as he looked over their map, marked with notes and filled-in corrections. “The next town should be… uh… K…”

“K?” Ruby asked, blinking. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Both Ren and Nora stopped dead in their tracks, causing Ruby and Pyrrha to turn to them. What was going on? Why were they acting so strangely? Ruby saw him clutching the map in his hands, visibly shaking as Nora wrapped her arms around him, quietly saying something that Ruby couldn’t hear.

“Ren?” Pyrrha asked. “Is everything alright?”

Nora glanced up at them, wearily shaking her head. Ruby didn’t dare to take a step closer, almost as if she was paralyzed by fear of the unknown. _Something_ on the map had caused Ren to have what could be termed at best a nervous breakdown. She and Pyrrha could do nothing but watch helplessly as Nora quietly navigated him through a fog of fear and confusion.

After what felt like an hour, Ren had found himself calm enough to slowly close his eyes, apparently swallowing his fear. “Kuroyuri is the next town. It’s… it’s where I grew up.”

“Well, th… that’s good, right?” Pyrrha weakly asked. “Maybe we can-”

“No, you don’t get it,” Nora replied. “It’s… it’s gone. When we were kids, the place just…”

Folding up the map, Ren sighed heavily as he began to walk again, brushing past Pyrrha and Ruby. “Kuroyuri was attacked by a Grimm. Two Grimm? I don’t even know. I was too young to understand it, but not young enough to be blind to what was happening. That… _thing,_ it killed everyone. It’s how I unlocked my Semblance.”

“Oh my God,” Pyrrha said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry, Ren, I didn’t know.”

Ren’s voice, as it usually did, betrayed no hint of emotion behind it. “It’s okay. I… don’t exactly talk about it.”

“Well, that’s also where we met,” Nora said with a pain-filled smile, rubbing his back. “You saved my life that day.”

“I did. I should have been able to save more.”

Nora’s gentle rubbing faded, quickly replaced by her smacking the back of Ren’s head. “_Stop that._ How many times have I told you not to blame yourself?”

“Exactly four hundred and seventy six times.”

Ruby cleared her throat, waiting for Ren and Nora to turn back around to face them. “Ren, if it’s too much… we can go around Kuroyuri. We don’t have to go through it.”

He emphatically shook his head, letting out a huff of air as he did so. “No. It’ll take too long. We need to take the direct route if we want to get to Haven Academy before the school year ends.”

She glanced over to Pyrrha as Ren and Nora began marching ahead. Pyrrha had the same worried look on her face that was troubling Ruby. This could bring up a _lot_ of bad memories, and if there were any Grimm around, this trip could end up even more dangerous than before. Ren had never fought the Grimm while his mind was this clouded. Ruby couldn’t help but be concerned for him.

Regardless, they continued on the lonely dirt path to Kuroyuri. By now, the peaceful blue skies had turned to a dismal gray, with thick dark clouds just beyond the horizon. Ruby hoped it wouldn’t rain. Rain reminded her too much of Beacon, and of Jaune.

God, how long had it been since she had last thought of him? Between fighting and traveling, there were so many other things to worry about. She felt the same pit in her stomach twist, her heart ache in pain as she remembered his smile, the way he was the only thing in any room he was ever in. Ruby had been lucky to have ever fallen in love with him and blessed that he felt the same way. Yet, at that same moment, she had been cursed to have him taken away. She scarcely remembered the last time she was able to sleep without crying, finding her pillow soaked in the morning. Ruby found herself starved of his touch, practically wrapping herself up when she was alone just to pretend for a while that she could still melt away in his arms.

It looked like Ruby’s hopes for no rain were dashed. As they headed into the abandoned town of Kuroyuri, a distant crack of thunder boomed across the land. The rain followed quickly, soaking them within seconds. Ruby shivered as they walked past the ruins of the town, and not just from the cold that the rain brought. The crumbling buildings reminded her of Mountain Glenn, and the night of Beacon’s fall. She didn’t dare utter a word, afraid that even the act of opening her mouth would cause Ren to spiral into another panic attack.

“Welcome to home,” Ren said, his voice full of pain and sadness. It was the first time Ruby could actively recall him having actual emotion behind his words, and not just maintaining his stoic tone of voice. Kuroyuri looked like hell the further they stepped into it, from small canals that were dry as bones to the shells of buildings long forgotten, standing as sentinels to the horror that had fallen upon this place god-knows how many years ago. Flashes of lightning illuminated the broken interiors, where the shadows of the past haunted them as they trekked a path through the old square. For a moment, Ruby believed that they could still see the ghosts of the past sitting on the couches, stared from the windows and stood behind the counters.

“Do you hear that?” Pyrrha asked, readying her sword. Through the rain and wind, Ruby wasn’t sure she could hear much. Their steps fell silent as they began to draw and prepare weapons, the sound of rain falling on rooftops and the cobblestone streets filling the air. Tension crept into Ruby’s bones as she strained to hear something, _anything_ that would justify Pyrrha’s sudden alert. Before long, she heard demented laughter that echoed and bounced off the old walls, and a flash of lightning revealed a man crouched on one of the nearby rooftops. He sat there, clad in a white sleeveless vest with a large collar, his madness-filled gold eyes staring at them as if he was looking upon them as prey.

“Who is that?” Nora asked.

“We don’t seek conflict!” Pyrrha called out.

In response, the man laughed again, leaping down to block their path out of Kuroyuri. He locked his elbows, two blades ejecting out from either side of the bracers he wore on his wrists. “Who I am does not matter. I only matter to _you._” He pointed at Ruby, a particular murderous glint in his eye.

“Me?” Ruby eked out, already preparing Crescent Rose to fight. This fellow didn’t look like he took no for an answer.

“Oh, you have no idea, do you? This must be _exciting,_” he said, breaking into insane laughter again.

Ruby gritted her teeth, her grip on Crescent Rose tightening. “What do you want?!”

He smiled, tilting his head curiously as he stood tall. “Oh my, the rose has thorns! My little flower, I’m here to whisk you away, of course!”

Nora and Ren immediately moved to block him from even attempting to take Ruby, with Pyrrha taking up position by her side, her sword and shield prepped. “What if she doesn’t _want_ to go with you?” Nora asked.

The mysterious man stared at them, his smile dropping before his face scrunched up, a flash of anger crossing over him as his eyebrow twitched. “Well, then I’ll just _take_ her.”

“We won’t be letting you do that,” Pyrrha declared.

His smile crept across his face, revealing a truly demented toothy grin that only served to unnerve Ruby further. “_Good,_” he growled.

The man stepped off first, charging at them with his wrist blades. Ren and Nora met the charge with shots and a massive hammer swing, the latter of which he easily dodged. Ren’s shots, however, apparently went wide as he juked out of the way. Pyrrha soon joined in the fray as he leaped above their heads, landing on Pyrrha’s shield as she fruitlessly tried to stab at him. Through it all, Ruby continually lobbed shots at the man, but it felt like everything she was doing had no effect. He either ducked away just in time, or seemed to predict the shot and changed his angle of attack just enough to throw it off.

Time to get in on this fight in full. Ruby extended Crescent Rose, swinging it at the man. However, he jumped off Pyrrha’s shield and kicked her to the side. Now flying through the air, Ruby regained her footing by dragging Crescent Rose’s blade though the ground, halting herself long enough to line up another shot. He was continually dodging and weaving, more like he was playing with them than anything else. She shot a look to Nora – a supercharged strike from Magnhild should stun him. Ruby pulled the trigger, sending a shot of electric Dust flying to Nora. As expected, the man dodged, thinking it was aimed at him. As he stood there laughing, Ruby worked her bolt, a smile on her face. Nora swung her hammer as quickly as she got up, forcing Ruby to shield her eyes as a wave of actual dust was kicked up.

But, when it began to settle, she could plainly see that he had somehow blocked the strike. He wasn’t just a random attacker – he was a Faunus, a man with a scorpion tail that had once been his belt, apparently. He laughed again, staring at Nora with lethal intent. “Surprise!”

“He’s… a Faunus?” Ren asked, confused.

“What’s this about?!” Ruby demanded. “The White Fang? Roman Torchwick?”

The man laughed again, kicking Nora backwards as he prepared himself to fight again, eyeing them up. “Plastic soldiers and pawns. My heart and body belong to our goddess.”

Pyrrha gasped. “Cinder…”

Ren and Pyrrha approached for another attack, but the man easily beat them off. Ren was sent flying into a building, struck so fast and brutally Ruby didn’t even have time to track where all the hits had landed. Pyrrha used her Semblance to good effect, preventing him from striking her with his blades, but the stinger wasn’t something she could affect. The two traded blows back and forth until Ruby swore she was the man’s eyes flash purple, and a single stab to Pyrrha’s gut sent her crumpling. Still cackling, the man charged for Ruby. In a flash, he had kicked her away, followed up by impossibly quick blows to her face and torso. She could feel it – her Aura was critically low now. If he got even one good hit in then she could _die._ She wouldn’t go out like this. _Couldn’t._ Not when she had done so much. She took Crescent Rose up, striking him with the snath and forcing him to fall back, but it wasn’t enough.

Within moments, he had charged again sweeping her legs out from underneath her. He towered over her, an evil look to his eye as his tail swaggered bath and forth, as if he was trying to decide where best to kill her. Helpless, Ruby searched for her friends. Pyrrha was still on the ground, clutching her stomach in pain. Ren and Nora could do little to help. This couldn’t be right. This was all a bad dream, right? The rain pouring down on them wasn’t real. This madman was a figment of her imagination. That had to be it. Soon, she would wake up, and the nightmare she had been living ever since her birthday would be just that, some sort of twisted dream that she could wake up from.

Just as the man reared his tail back, another flash of lightning struck. Suddenly, Ruby found her uncle standing between her and the man, the blade of his scythe blocking his attack. Surprised, the man leaped back as he cackled again.

“Well, as I live and breathe! Qrow Branwen! Finally, a _true_ Huntsman has joined the fight!”

“Look pal, I don’t know who you are,” Qrow said, readjusting his grip on his weapon. “But you need to leave my niece alone.”

He laughed again, staring them down. “Why, allow me to introduce myself, then. I am Tyrian, but I’m afraid leaving your _lovely niece_ alone is not possible. My assignment from Her Grace was to retrieve this girl, and I _am not_ going to upset the Queen.”

“Queen?” Ruby asked.

Qrow gritted his teeth, sighing. “Salem.”

Ruby blinked, unsure if she was supposed to know this. “Who?”

Before Qrow could answer, he and Tyrian engaged in combat. Ren and Nora had gotten up by now, grabbing Pyrrha and carrying her out of danger. Ruby could faintly hear Qrow saying something, but she wasn’t sure what. Come closer? Was that it?

“We have to go!” Ren shouted as he ran past Ruby.

“No! You go, I’ll help my uncle!” Ruby fired a shot, leaping up onto a roof as Qrow and Tyrian’s fight moved to an adjacent rooftop, clashing with a skill she hadn’t seen in a long time. It looked like Tyrian’s blades also had a gun, judging from the shots ringing out. Ruby tried to track them and look for an opening to fire and distract Tyrian, but they were moving far too fast for her to keep up with. Somehow, Tyrian had grabbed hold of Qrow and launched him into a building, sending him crashing down back to the ground. She couldn’t stay back anymore. Ruby leaped down from the roof, swinging her blade at Tyrian as he approached the building Qrow was in.

Like she expected, he tried to block it. Ruby had one trick left up her sleeve, though – a single shot of Dust remaining. She pulled the trigger, forcing Crescent Rose to move faster than Tyrian expected. With a clean slice, Ruby watched the stinger on his tail fly off, purple liquid oozing out of it. He screamed, leaping back. “You bitch!” he shouted, staring at her. Qrow exploded out of the building, flying into Tyrian with a heavy kick that sent him tumbling. It looked like he had enough, as he muttered something under his breath and retreated.

“You okay, kid?” Qrow asked, watching the madman run away.

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “I… I don’t think Pyrrha is, though.”

Qrow turned around, joining Ruby in heading towards her fallen friend. Ren and Nora had stopped long enough to put Pyrrha against one of the city walls, where her head lolled about lazily. She was muttering something, but she was so quiet Ruby couldn’t hear what. Qrow gingerly moved Pyrrha’s hand away from her stomach, revealing a nasty purple wound that pulsed with each breath she took.

“Alright, this is bad,” he said. “So, here’s what we’re going to do. We need to get to Mistral as soon as possible, understand? If we don’t, she’ll die out here.”

Ruby nodded sharply, taking Pyrrha’s right side from Nora. They took turns running as fast and hard as they could, stopping to give Pyrrha drinks of water when she wanted it and to swap out carrying duties. Qrow had opted to quite literally fly ahead, using a power that Ruby had no clue he even possessed until this moment. Was his ability to turn into a bird part of his Semblance, or something else? She didn’t know, but right now wasn’t exactly the time to ask for exposition. All she could hope for was that her friend would be safe.

After all, Ruby did _not_ want to lose another friend. She couldn’t stand to entertain the thought.

The rain had stopped hours ago, but that didn’t make their sprint to Mistral any easier. Dark, almost black clouds circled above them, and harsh winds nearly knocked Ruby over more than a few times. It was as if everything was conspiring to block them from reaching Mistral. Nora and Ren had paused, resting for a short moment and to give Pyrrha some water. This time, it was Ruby’s turn to do so. Whatever poison Tyrian used, it was incredibly fast-acting. Pyrrha looked _horrible,_ like she had been drained of all life. She weakly sipped on the water, coughing deeply every so often.

“Ruby?” Pyrrha asked as the canteen was taken away from her face. “Do you… do you think we’ll make it?”

Ruby nodded, screwing the cap back on. “Of _course_ we will, Pyrrha. I’ll make sure of it.”

Pyrrha’s breathing was short, labored, as if the very act of drawing air into her lungs was taking everything in her to do. “Did you know,” she said weakly, “what Jaune wanted to do on that day?”

“It’s okay,” Ruby said. “I know he had something big planned. I’ll do it one of these days, but right now I want to make sure _you_ live, alright?”

“He really… wanted to make it a special day,” Pyrrha said, coughing. “He spent two weeks planning it, you know.”

Ruby held back tears as best she could, but the wetness rolling down her cheek told her that there was no possible way she would be able to stem the tide forever. “It’s – it’ll be okay,” she muttered. “Pyrrha, please, you’ll be alright.”

“I’m feeling a bit tired,” she muttered. “I think I’ll take a nap for a bit.”

Eyes growing wide, Ruby realized what was happening. _No, no, no, no._ Not like this. She couldn’t lose Pyrrha, not after all this. She shook Pyrrha awake, incoherently yelling as if that’d help. Sensing the danger, Nora and Ren immediately got up, and the three of them began a mad dash to Mistral, trying to reach the city in time. Ruby didn’t care that her legs felt like they were on fire. She didn’t care that she had bruised every part of her body. She didn’t care that every part of her was crying out for rest and relief. Ruby would _not_ let another friend die on her watch.

* * *

Two days at home had not made life much better for Blake. If it wasn’t the gunshots in the night, it was the arguments down the hall. If it wasn’t that, it was the way the White Fang and police eyed her suspiciously as she headed out with Mom to run errands. And if that didn’t unnerve her, it was the way that the locals simultaneously looked down on Blake and held her up as some sort of bizarre martyr, a dead woman walking for having gone to live with the humans and _surviving._

Nothing about coming home had much cured her of the will to just run away, and keep running until her legs gave out and she collapsed. Mom had noticed it, but didn’t dare to broach the subject. Dad on the other hand… well, he was more inclined to wonder if Blake was staying home to help fix things around Menagerie, or debate whether or not she’d meet a nice boy and settle down. Blake avoided the questions like the plague, though, deftly dodging just as well as she always had. At least she wasn’t still tied to Adam, but then the conversations she and Dad would be having would have been far different. There was no way they’d be as cordial as they were now.

Blake had taken to looking over the box again at night, as if looking at old memories and reminiscing about the past would make her at ease. She admitted to herself, it felt pointless most days. Blake knew what she’d get out of that box, and yet she couldn’t keep herself from opening it, as if tearing raw old wounds.

“We all miss it, you know,” Mom said one night. Blake looked up with a start, still clutching the old White Fang flag in her hands.

“M-miss what?” Blake asked. Mom could have meant a lot of things by that simple sentence alone.

“The old White Fang. What we fought for back then.”

Blake felt her ears droop. They really _did_ have actual ideals back then, didn’t they? An actual cause worth fighting for. Not the terrorism that Adam and his ilk had built their reputation on. “Mom, you know I didn’t come home just to see you guys.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” she said, setting down a tray of tea and lifting the cup to her lips. “It’s okay to take a step back sometimes, Blake. Really, it is. If your father hadn’t stepped down as High Leader, I think he would have lost his mind.”

Blake shook her head, grudgingly taking a cup of her own into her hands. Still warm, with only a small smidgen of sugar. Mom still remembered, even after all this time. “Mom, you don’t get it. I… I _ran._ From _everyone._ My friends, my teammates, you guys… I’m just a coward.”

“Don’t you dare think that,” Mom admonished. “You have your reasons, honey.”

“Do I, though? It doesn’t feel like it.”

Mom set her cup down, folding her hands on her knees. “Blake, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that when things get tough, you run away. That’s not a condemnation, that’s just who you are. And, if you just want to be the same girl who grew up here under our roof, you can keep doing that.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming up,” Blake said.

“_But,”_ Mom said, confirming her suspicions. “You need to learn how to face the difficult times if you want to be an adult. You’re not a teenager anymore, so we can’t exactly force you to do anything now, but I would highly suggest you figure out how to do that, and soon. You’re old enough to know you need to do it.”

In a way, Blake had expected this. And yet, she found that, all too often, Mom was right. She _did_ have to figure out how to stop running away.

If only she had any clue where the fuck to start.

“I wish I could turn back time,” Blake admitted. “I should have stayed in Vale, with Yang and Ruby.”

“It’s never too late to apologize,” Mom suggested, sipping on her tea. “Yang seems like an understanding girl. I’m sure she’d welcome you back if you went to see her.”

Go see Yang? Was that even _possible?_ She’d used almost the last of her money just getting to Menagerie. How the hell was she supposed to get to Patch? Would Yang even _be_ there? What if she was out with her sister, trying to fight and save the world?

“We can help you get there,” Mom said out of the blue, almost as if she could read Blake’s thoughts. “Just say the word, Blake.”

“You’d do that?” Blake asked, blinking. “I… but why?”

Mom shrugged, smiling. “If I could, honey, I’d move mountains to make sure you’re safe and happy. I know you’re not happy here, and I don’t believe for even a minute you’ll try to find a way to live on Menagerie. The least we can do is help you get somewhere where you _can_ find happiness.”

Blake felt her throat tighten, tears forming in her eyes as she headed over and hugged Mom. “Thank you,” she muttered. “I can’t thank you and Dad enough.”

“Just live your best life,” Mom reminded her. “That’s all you can do to make me happy.”

Well, time to pack up. She’d have to leave early to get to port tomorrow.


	17. Taking Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang continues to struggle with losing her arm.

Every day, every _fucking_ day, Yang had to see that stupid goddamn arm taunting her when she woke up.

Dad had decided to paint the fucking thing yellow, presenting it as a gift to her one day. Yang faked enthusiasm, and promptly kept it on the shelf in her bedroom, promising to use it one day. Well, surprise, still dealing with every bad memory since the night she lost her fucking arm stopped her from even wanting to touch the prosthetic. She thought that touching it could help, when Dad first presented it to her. But the dissonance between her warm flesh and the cold, indifferent steel that the prosthetic was made out of, no doubt to keep it strong enough to withstand her violent combat style, prevented her from wanting to attach it. So, she had decided that so long as she lived, this would not be part of her. She was find with just having her gauntlets – well, one gauntlet was fine now. She could adapt to life with one hand.

Well, that was her working theory anyway.

It really fucking sucked that reality was slapping her in the face and forcing her to confront the idea that, no, she really _couldn’t_ adapt to life without two hands. Working on Bumblebee was even harder with one hand. Riding it was almost impossible. She kept trying to relearn her usual fighting skills, but without a second weapon, she had to commit to either blocking or striking. There was never a middle ground.

On yet another morning with staring at the thing, Yang sighed as she swung her legs off the bed. She walked to the dresser that had the arm on a little stand, the yellow paint glistening in the early sunlight. How often had she looked at this, hoping that by some miracle, it’d just disappear and she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore?

“Is today going to be the day?” Dad asked, somehow having come in without her hearing or noticing.

“I…” Yang muttered. “I don’t want to admit you were right.”

Dad shrugged, his arms folded as he looked on. “Well, like I said, if you want help, I can help you. Just let me know.”

She sighed, a heavy, uneven breath that seemed to weigh her down even more as it escaped her lungs. “Dad,” Yang hesitated, almost as if she was afraid of the answer she’d get. “Why did Raven leave us?”

Dad’s smile faded just as quickly as it had come, and he seemed to search for something with his eyes. She could see him move his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but kept backtracking on his words. “Sit down, Yang,” he finally said. “You… won’t like what I have to tell you.”

This couldn’t be good. Yang eased herself onto her bed, soon joined by Dad. He looked… God, she couldn’t even tell. It was like he was full of regret and disappointed all at the same time. He stared at the wall, apparently trying to figure out what words were again. She wanted to say something, but if he lost his train of thought here, Yang wasn’t sure it’d ever come back.

“So, Raven… your mother, I… I wish I had a better way to explain all this to you, Yang,” Dad said, alternating between looking at her and the wall. “We were a lot like you and your team in a way. I’m sure you know we were helping Ozpin out, like you guys are now. Or, _were_, I guess I should say.”

“Uh huh…” Yang said. Where was this going? She knew this already, but why was this a bad thing for her to know?

“I can’t tell you for sure when it happened,” Dad explained, his eyes now staring straight at the floor. “I don’t really know myself. It was like… sometime in between us working with Ozpin and you being born, there was this switch, and Raven wasn’t herself anymore. It was like she had turned into a completely different person. She told me that she didn’t want to have you and raise you in a world where you wouldn’t be safe. Hey, fair point. Fundamentally? I agreed with her. That’s why I raised you and Ruby the way I did, and made sure you were prepared.”

Dad sighed again, leaning back on the bed as he began to look Yang in the eyes again. He looked sad, like he regretted doing – or not doing – something in the past. “The way she explained it, she didn’t want to help Ozpin anymore. She didn’t want to work with us, and… I guess she didn’t want to see _me_ anymore. So, when you were born, she left, I assume because you reminded her too much of me. I know you’ve been looking for her ever since you got accepted to Beacon.”

“Dad,” Yang said, almost immediately prepared to defend herself. “I-”

“It’s okay,” he replied, sitting back up and nodding. “I understand. Believe me. But don’t get me wrong – she’s _dangerous,_ Yang. We were a deadly team, and it’s because we were _all_ trained killers. Out of all of us, though? Summer and Raven were the deadliest. All this to say, if, _when_ you find her? I don’t know what she’ll do. You need to be ready for a fight.” He pointed to her stump, staring at her with an intensity that Yang hadn’t seen in years. “You won’t be ready with one arm. You can’t _fight_ her with one arm, God forbid it comes to that. That’s why Qrow gave that prosthetic to you, because he knows how dangerous she is, and neither one of us wants to see you hurt.”

The weight of Dad’s words seemed heavier than any pack she had carried during field trips and training exercises at Beacon. He was right, as usual. Yang didn’t want to admit it, but there was no way in hell she’d ever be able to challenge much of anyone with just one arm, especially one that had never been her dominant hand. Yang faced the realization with a slow blink. “So,” she eked out, glancing over at Dad. “Will you help me figure out how to use this stupid thing?”

Dad’s smile came back as he nodded. “I’d be glad to.”

* * *

The good news was that she was starting to get used to this arm.

The bad news was that trying to fight with it was proving to be somewhat of a challenge.

“You’re too open!” Dad criticized as they sparred. “You need to _defend!_”

Yang dodged one of his attacks, sidestepping and countering with a quick jab. “That’s what I have _teammates_ for!”

A solid hit soon found its way to the side of her stomach. Before she had even realized it, Dad had landed four punches, forcing Yang to take a step back. “You won’t always have your sister, your team,” Dad said. “How many times have I told you that? The Vytal Tournament should have taught you this!”

Yang rolled her shoulders back, raising her fists back up. “I can handle myself, you know,” she said, jumping right back into the fray. Dad kept a closely guarded stance, but she could break this easily. She’d done it before, after all. As long as she was quick with her blows, kept him guessing, she could prove she didn’t need defense.

However, that idea quickly went to shit the second she threw a punch, and Dad knocked her off her feet. She fell face-first into the dirt, involuntarily groaning. “I think that’s enough for today,” Dad said, offering her a hand. “You need to learn to control your Semblance, your anger. Channel it, don’t let _it_ control _you._”

“I _can_ control it,” she muttered angrily, dusting herself off.

Dad smirked, tossing her a bottle of water. “You sure? Because I’ve won every single time by making you too pissed off to actually think.”

Unscrewing the cap, Yang almost started to argue – until she realized he was right. She shook her head, taking a drink of nice, cool water. “Maybe you’ve got a point,” she admitted. “I can do it, though.”

“I’m sure you can, otherwise I wouldn’t keep doing it,” he said. “Hey, I’ve got to go into town for a bit. Want to come with?”

“No, I’m good,” she said. “I might work on Bumblebee a bit. Almost got her back to running.”

Dad nodded, heading inside to get his keys. “Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.”

The sky began to cloud over, cutting away the light she had. For a split second, it felt like someone had temporarily put a lampshade over the sun, and the garage was even darker than it usually was. She turned on the light, illuminating the single bay as she heard Dad peel away. Time to get this stupid hose clamp back on. She got her tools together, kneeling down and focusing on the work in front of her.

It had been a while before she was even aware of anything else going on. Off in the distance, she heard a shot. Sounded like a rifle. Not too unusual – a lot of people kept guns on them to stave off Grimm, and it was also hunting season. An occasional gunshot wasn’t anything to flip out over. Except now, a second shot rang out.

And it was getting closer.

Yang put down her wrench, confused to high hell as to what the fuck was going on. She headed outside, furrowing her brow at the source of the noise as she tried to figure out what was happening. There weren’t any Grimm noises, none that she could recognize at least. No shouting. Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary, other than someone popping off shots like they were drunk and shooting shadows.

In between the deep rifle shots, though, Yang began to hear something else. She strained to hear it, until whoever had the rifle took a break for whatever reason. The echoing gunshots were a lot lighter, probably a pistol or something. Yang blinked, horror dawning on her as she realized that she was all too familiar with the sound of this weapon. That was Gambol Shroud’s report filling the air. What the fuck was Blake doing here? Who the hell was she fighting? Yang barely even thought about it before she found herself running, sprinting to the growing sounds of combat.

Before long, Yang had made it into Patch’s vast forests, approaching a clearing as the gunshots began to die out. Where was Blake? She scanned left, right, practically every which way but down in a vain attempt to find her friend. Something rustled to her right – prepared for a fight, Yang settled into a combat stance, acutely aware that she only had the one weapon on her prosthetic. If whoever Blake was fighting ended up being serious, this could be a problem. Blake bolted out of the forest edge, panting heavily and not even aware that Yang was standing there. She lowered her arms and called out to Blake as she began to run over.

The deep bass booming of the rifle that had been pursuing her rang out, and Yang could hear Blake yelp as the shot hit her, sending her sprawling forward. Practically right behind her, another person stepped out from the forest edge. Her hair was a stark white, almost like Weiss’s, but her blue eyes were filled with visions of murder. Yang found herself staring at the girl’s tattoos, trying to derive meaning from them as she worked the bolt of her rifle. She had a simple piece of chest armor, stuffed with Dust cartridges, put on over a tan shirt that was neatly tucked into jeans that had undoubtedly seen better days.

The strange woman looked down on Blake first, an evil grin crossing her face. As she slammed her rifle’s bolt closed, she looked up at Yang, her eyes apparently searching for something. Was there a glimmer of recognition in them? Yang wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

“Get the _fuck_ away from her!” Yang shouted, cocking her fist back as she charged ahead. Her new foe tilted her head, as if regarding Yang with curiosity. In an instant, her rifle had transformed, now an impossibly long warhammer that she maneuvered around to start swinging at Yang. She ducked under the swing and delivered a flurry of punches, but it didn’t seen like a single one even affected the girl.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yang saw something glowing, but she couldn’t bother to wonder what it was. The girl had turned the bottom part of her warhammer against Yang, jabbing her in the gut and forcing her to take several steps back. This gave her enough room to swing it again, and this time Yang couldn’t dodge. She took the full force of the warhammer’s head as it slammed into her, sending Yang flying into the nearest tree. _Fuck,_ this shit hurt. Even with her Aura at max – well, less now that she had just taken that hit – it felt like being run over by a fucking train. She groaned as she rubbed her head, looking up to see Blake had gotten back to her feet and was in the fight.

Time for Yang to help out. She jumped up and tried to lob some shots off, but her arm only clicked uselessly. _Fuck, right,_ she hadn’t loaded any Dust into it. Couldn’t go breaking trees and shattering windows while sparring with Dad, after all. Still though, she could punch the fuck out of this bitch, which is pretty much exactly what Yang’s backup plan was once she realized there wasn’t any Dust. Blake had wrapped her ribbons around the girl’s legs, but she broke through them effortlessly. Jesus, she swung this hammer like it was a fucking toothpick.

Wordlessly, Blake and Yang coordinated a plan – Yang got in close and forced the girl to keep a close guard, while Blake harassed her and kept her boxed in. It felt like every punch she threw didn’t do a thing to the strange woman, like she knew something Yang didn’t. In the blink of an eye, she had swapped over again from warhammer to rifle, swiftly smacking Yang in the face with the buttstock. The sound of a shot rang out impossibly close to Yang’s ears as she fell to the ground, punctuated by the heavy metal bolt being worked as a spent Dust cartridge landed in the grass next to her, still smoking.

Yang grabbed her jaw, afraid something was broken. Nothing yet, but there was definitely blood on her hand as she withdrew it. Alright, _now_ Yang was pissed off. She got back up just in time to see Blake had swapped over to using Gambol Shroud as a katana, locked in a duel with the bizarre girl. Even with the full-length rifle, she easily countered and blocked Blake’s strikes, parrying like it was no effort at all to her. As Yang joined in the melee, the girl glanced at her for a split second before hitting both of them with a sweeping blow, walking backwards as she shoved new Dust cartridges in. Yang took this opportunity to charge forward, only to take a direct shot right to her torso the second the girl closed the bolt. Blake charged as well – rolling over, Yang looked up in time to see that the girl had gone back to the warhammer, knocking Blake up in the air.

Looked like this bitch was tracking Blake’s descent. Time to bring the fight back. Yang let out a yell as she ran ahead, fist ready to knock this girl’s fucking lights out. Impossibly fast, though, the girl’s gaze turned from Blake in the sky to Yang, a calm, almost analyzing look to her as she smirked and swung her hammer. Again, Yang found herself flying through the air, only stopped when another hit from the girl’s warhammer drove her into the ground. Something was fucked up – without her Scroll on her, there was no way to tell how much Aura she had left, if any at all.

Yang stifled a grunt of pain, trying to get up but failing. Had that hit cracked or broken a rib? Maybe. Whatever had happened, something wasn’t working right. The girl’s heavy brown boots stepped just in front of her, but only for a second. She kicked Yang in the face immediately after, rolling her over. As if she was fully aware of just how much pain she had caused, the girl put a foot on Yang’s chest, putting more than enough pressure on to evoke a shout of pain.

“Such weakness, and for what?” she asked, staring at Yang with a cruel smile on her face. “All for a fucking Faunus? Pathetic.”

Yang swallowed, the very act causing pain. “Fuck you,” she muttered.

The girl’s smile took on an even more sinister look if that was possible as she lifted the warhammer up, no doubt preparing to strike. “You’re a feisty one,” she said. “Shame I have to kill you.”

Before she could bring the warhammer’s head down on her, the girl was knocked off her feet. Blake had gotten back up, saving her life and sending their foe tumbling to God-knows where. Yang grunted as Blake helped her up, turning to look where the girl had gone. Other than a single final shot that stopped them from wanting to pursue, it looked like she had retreated for good.

“Fuck,” Yang muttered, kneeling down as the pain became overwhelming. “What the fuck, Blake? Who was that? Why are you here?”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” she said, her voice full of concern. “Where’s your house? You need help.”

Yang weakly pointed in the direction of home, and soon enough, she had been swept off her feet as Blake began to carry her, jostling her about as she ran through the forest. God, each step sent a jolt of pain through her. This sucked. “You know,” Yang said, trying to conceal her pain. “I think this makes the second time you’ve saved my life.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Blake replied, eyes fixed forward. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Blake had gotten them back to the house, kicking open the door and unceremoniously dumping Yang on the couch. She ransacked the kitchen, looking for an ice pack to help with Yang’s pain. Finding none, and not even listening to Yang telling her where to actually _find_ it, she settled on a couple bags of frozen vegetables, haphazardly throwing them on top of Yang as she promised to get her some pain pills.

She had to admit, the freezing cold did help her pain a little bit. Maybe there wasn’t anything broken after all. Still, Yang wasn’t too thrilled with seeing Blake this stressed out. _Something_ had clearly happened to bring her here, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what that something was. “Blake?” Yang called out, hearing her knocking God-knows what over as she sought out pain pills in Dad’s bathroom.

“I’m looking for it!” she shouted back.

“That’s not-” Yang huffed, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t care about that right now, what the hell are you doing here, Blake?”

A triumphant cry came from the bathroom, and Blake ran in, struggling to get the cap open and shove the pills in her hand at the same time. “Okay, these should help with the – goddammit! Stupid childproof caps, I swear to-”

“Blake! Jesus Christ, put the fucking pills down and look at me!”

She blinked, confused and, if Yang didn’t know any better, maybe even hurt by the sudden outburst. Her mouth moved about, trying to form words but failing as useless babbling came out. “I… I was just trying to get the cap off, and-”

“What are you _doing_ here?”

“Uh, well… um, I… I shouldn’t have left you after Beacon.” Blake swallowed, a hesitant, tearful breath escaping from her lips. “I don’t want to run away anymore, and I came here to see if I could find you, and…”

Yang sighed, feeling her shoulders drop. “It… it really fucking hurt when you left, Blake,” she said quietly. “I thought we were friends.”

“We _are!_ I just… I don’t know. Everything that happened that night, I… I was afraid, and I thought if I stayed with you, then he’d come for us and-”

“Blake, it’s okay,” Yang said. “There’s… not another reason you’re here, are you? Like, other than to get away from that crazy bitch? Who even was that, anyway?”

She shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know. She must have been following me or something, I didn’t know she was even behind me until she started shooting.”

“Ruby’s okay, though, right? Like, there’s not-”

“I haven’t talked to Ruby since Beacon. Why? Where is she?”

Yang blinked. _Fuck,_ she didn’t know then. But, wait, right, maybe she couldn’t have known. “Okay, then… she’s probably fine. Fuck.”

“Yang, what happened since I left?”

Shifting her weight – met with some water spilling, thank you frozen green beans – Yang let out a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Ruby left with Pyrrha and her team a few months ago. I don’t think any of us have heard from Weiss. I… had kind of given up hope of seeing you again, until you showed up.”

“You… have an arm,” Blake said out of the blue, blinking as she stared at the prosthetic.

Yang held the arm up, looking at it. “You… just now noticed? I had it on for like, the entire fight.”

“It’s been a stressful day, alright?!”

She couldn’t help herself. Laughing felt good, right up until the pain in her gut stabbed her and made it too hard to bear. It had been a long, _long_ time since Yang had actually laughed at something. God, she had missed Blake so much.

The door creaked open, and Yang looked up to see Dad had come home, his arms loaded with bags. He looked at Yang strangely, no doubt wondering why half the freezer was on her, and then at Blake. “Oh, hey, uh… Blake, right?”

“Hey, Dad,” Yang said, waving.

“Hello, Mr. Xiao Long.”

Dad circled around, putting the bags down on the floor as he stared at Yang. “Uh, why do you have tonight’s dinner on your stomach?”

“We… may have gotten into a bit of a fight,” Yang said, shrugging her shoulders.

Immediately, Dad frowned and furrowed his brow, before folding his arms and turning to Blake. “Okay, what did she do?”

“It wasn’t her fault, I promise,” Blake said, holding her hands up. “Someone was following me and attacked me.”

“I thought you said your friends weren’t as wild as you were,” Dad said suspiciously, side-eyeing Yang.

“They’re not! It was some crazy girl with a giant hammer!”

Dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down on his chair. “Alright, so tell me what happened.”

Blake and Yang relayed the story as best they could – Blake filled in that she had come here under the assumption Yang was already somewhere else, and intended to meet up with her. Yang told Dad how she had heard the shots and thought it was a hunter or something at first, until they got closer. Both agreed that they thought the girl was crazy, and that her demeanor unnerved them.

“Okay,” Dad said, listening to their stories with interlocked fingers. “What’d this girl look like?”

“White hair, assault vest, long rifle,” Blake recited. “She looked like she had been on the road a long time.”

Yang propped herself up, trying to readjust the peas that wee against the side of the couch and herself. “She had like, a fuckton of tattoos, too. Like, her arms were just covered in them.”

At this, Dad perked up. “Wait, tattoos? Like, sleeve tattoos?”

“Uh, yeah,” Yang said, nodding. “She had something on her cheek too, but I didn’t see what it was.”

Dad’s face turned ashen white, and he got up, pacing around his chair as he rubbed his chin. This couldn’t be good.

“Uh, Mr. Xiao Long?” Blake asked. “Is something wrong?”

Sighing, Dad nodded. “Yang, there’s something I didn’t tell you about your mother.”

“Okay… uh, what is it?”

“She’s the leader of a raider gang. I’m sure that’s part of what’s made her so hard to track down. They don’t stay anywhere for long – they live off the land, steal whatever they can’t scavenge. From what you’ve told me, this girl sounds like she could be part of them.”

Blake and Yang exchanged a worried look. They had barely beaten her two on one. What would an entire _gang_ of them be like? “So…” Yang said, looking back at Dad. “Then why would they attack Blake?”

“I don’t know,” Dad said, shrugging. “I don’t know what Raven thinks anymore.”

“Well, then we should go find her,” Blake suggested. “Maybe she can tell us why she’d attack me?”

Dad lowered his head. He didn’t seem like he wanted Yang to go, and she could understand why. “Dad, I have to do this,” Yang said weakly. “You know I have to.”

“I do,” he muttered. “Listen, both of you. It’s going to be _dangerous_ out there. I’m sure you’ve heard that from your professors and mentors before, but I _mean it._ Please, for my sake and your own, be careful out there. You guys can’t take on every fight in front of you just because you went to Beacon.”

Yang and Blake both nodded sharply. She didn’t need the reminder – the evidence was right in front of her, between her lost arm and the trauma that Blake tried to conceal. Yang would have to get her stuff together, and stop by the Dust shop on her way out. She had managed to get Bumblebee working again, so they definitely had a transport.

She really wished that Ruby was here.


	18. Right Behind You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a wounded Pyrrha in tow, getting to Mistral turns out to be the easiest part of the journey.

If Ren was saying something, Ruby honestly couldn’t hear it. Between her own heavy breathing, the howling wind, and rolling thunder that seemed to follow them the closer to Mistral they got, it was a wonder Ruby could even hear herself think. She had lost track of how long they had been running, deciding that in the end it really didn’t even matter. All that needed to happen was getting Pyrrha to safety. In her mind, nothing else mattered.

The rain hadn’t stopped since they woke up for their continued march to Mistral that morning. As she sloshed through the thick, soupy mud that had turned the trails to nothing more than vague suggestions, Ruby wondered where Uncle Qrow was. It shouldn’t have taken this long to get help, right? What was taking them so long? Was the storm making it hard to fly or something? Maybe. Ruby pushed the struggles she was going through out of her mind. She had to focus on Pyrrha and making sure she was alright.

By now, her friend had grown delirious. She didn’t want to sleep anymore, but instead Pyrrha began babbling incoherently. She spoke a language Ruby didn’t recognize, occasionally slipping back to provide something that didn’t make any sense. Nora tried to remind Pyrrha where they were, what they were doing, but she didn’t seem to grasp it. All she ever said when her words made sense was that she was late for a test.

Ruby slipped, falling face-first into the mud and dropping Pyrrha’s legs. Coughing, she tried to wipe the mud away. This day was quickly becoming worse and worse with the passing minute. Ren had doubled back, helping her up. Her vision came back as she spit out dirt and grime from her mouth. A stinging sensation hit her as tears mixed with the mud and filth from the mud, trying to turn back around and help Pyrrha up, but Ren’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Ruby,” Ren said, staring at her as his shoulders heaved, rain rolling off his hair. “What are we doing?”

She found herself dumbstruck, trying to wipe away mud and keep the tears out at the same time. So far, it wasn’t working. “We… we’re getting Pyrrha to safety,” she muttered, sobbing heavily.

Next to her, Nora hobbled over with Pyrrha, who was still going on about how she couldn’t be late for the recital. The mud didn’t seem to affect Pyrrha much, other than covering the front of her cargo pants. “Do we want to address the elephant in the room?”

Ruby shuddered, shaking her head as a lump formed in her throat. “No, we… we can get her help. Pyrrha wouldn’t abandon any of us!”

“It’s not abandoning,” Ren argued. “But if your uncle isn’t back soon, then…”

“Then we’ll keep going!” Ruby shouted, throwing Ren’s hand off her shoulder. She took Pyrrha’s legs and propped them up as Nora readjusted her hold on their friend, reluctantly helping Ruby carry her. There wasn’t ever a question in her mind to stop helping. Ruby couldn’t _afford_ to sit back, not here, not now, not ever. She had to keep carrying Pyrrha until she physically couldn’t anymore.

It felt like her boots were a thousand times heavier than they ever had been. She tried to keep her legs moving, but it felt like the mud was becoming a bottomless pit from which she’d never come out of. Was this how she was supposed to end her journey? By losing her closest friend in the middle of nowhere while rain poured down on her? Just give up and go home?

Ren sighed, slowly lifting Pyrrha’s legs off her shoulders and helping Nora move her to the side of the road, if it could even be called that at this point. With every bone in her body aching, Ruby slumped over in the mud, her tears mixing with the rain as she began to hopelessly sob. She swallowed hard, looking over to see Ren slowly shaking his head. “Ruby,” he said quietly. “We have to consider moving on.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” Ruby said, sniffling uselessly. “I _can’t._ If anyone else died, I… I don’t know. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I know,” Ren nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Ruby. But we-”

A pair of shining lights nearly blinded Ruby, and on instinct, they turned to look as a horn began to blow, a loud hollow thing that echoed across the open field. The sound of interlinked tracks clacked and squeaked as a large, boxy vehicle rolled into view, spewing mud and grass around. A low metal _thud_ rang out, and a uniformed man poked his head out, cupping his hands around his mouth to make himself heard over the roaring engine. “Are you the group with the wounded man?!” he shouted.

“We have someone poisoned!” Ruby yelled back. “Can you help us?!”

He waved them forward, as one of the side doors opened. Two more uniformed people spilled out, followed quickly by Uncle Qrow. The two uniforms loaded Pyrrha in, while Uncle Qrow urged them to head into the tracked vehicle and out of the rain. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Qrow said, practically shoving Ruby into one of the seats. “We’re going to be in Mistral soon.”

All she could do was stare ahead, watching the red interior light of the vehicle cast its glow on every surface.

* * *

As it turned out, Pyrrha had been given the best care possible, quickly evacuated to a hospital with the best amenities that Mistral could offer. Pyrrha was far from out of the woods in terms of health, but she was on her way to recovery. Apparently, the poison of scorpion Faunus like Tyrian was well-known, generously provided to Mistral’s hospitals by Atlesian medical science in spite of the current embargo facing the world, and for the moment Pyrrha was on her way to recovery.

But, it seemed rest at Mistral wouldn’t come easily. As Pyrrha was whisked away to the medical wards, Uncle Qrow gathered them up in a neglected meeting room. He told them to sit down, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “So,” he said once they had settled. “I need to tell you kids something. This war that Ozpin told you all about, back at Beacon? Well, it’s a lot larger than he let on.”

“He _did_ mention that the fate of the world rested with us,” Ren said. “What could be larger than that?”

Uncle Qrow sighed, looking to the side wistfully. “Long ago, there were these relics left by a precursor civilization. These Relics gave humanity everything needed to guide themselves in the future – Choice, Knowledge, Creation and Destruction. If you combine all of those together, then you can bend the world to your will. That Tyrian guy, he mentioned Salem. Salem is who we’ve been fighting against all this time. She wants to take over Remnant, make it her own personal playground.”

“So, it’s on us to stop it,” Nora concluded.

Uncle Qrow nodded. “Bingo. Each of the Relics is contained in a vault underneath the major combat schools – Atlas, Haven, Beacon, Shade. While your friend’s recovering, I’m going to make contact with friends I have here, and then we’ll _all_ go and make sure that the Relic here is safe. I’m sure Salem knows that the Relic’s here. It’s just a matter of time before she comes to collect on it.”

“This… this is heavy,” Ruby muttered. “Uncle Qrow, how do we know what Ozpin wants us to do?”

“Trust me kid,” Uncle Qrow said, softly smiling. “We’ll know. He has a habit of showing up when you least expect it.”

“Wait, so he’s alive?” Ren asked.

At this, Uncle Qrow merely shrugged, unfolding his arms and moving to leave. “I don’t know yet. Guess we’ll find out.”

* * *

Ruby, Ren, and Nora were listless as they waited for Pyrrha to recover. Uncle Qrow categorically refused to let any of them accompany him on his trips to “make contact” with his “friends,” bluntly telling Ruby that she should be there when Pyrrha woke up. Thus, here they stayed in her room, waiting for the day she opened her eyes again. The unspoken fear that she never would hung over them as they tried to make the best of their situation. So far, it wasn’t working. She constantly paced the room as Ren apparently meditated. Nora, unlike her usual self, seemed more content to alternate between sitting at Pyrrha and Ren’s side.

This room was too clean. Ruby didn’t like it. Each surface was impossibly white, from the walls to the bed itself. Even Pyrrha’s bedsheets seemed so white it hurt to even look at. How did anyone here stand it? Weren’t hospitals supposed to make people feel _safe?_ All Ruby felt in here was that she was trapped forever. Not even the view of Mistral’s skyline made her comfortable.

Initially, Ruby mistook the groaning for some sort of medical machine, until she turned her head and saw Pyrrha’s eyes lazily opening. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Ruby ran over to her bed, immediately wrapping her arms around her. “I’m so, so, _so_ happy you’re okay,” she exclaimed, squeezing as tight as the various medical bits and bobs allowed.

“What happened?” Pyrrha asked, her words slow and dulled, as if she had forgotten how to talk. “Where… where are we?”

Ren stood up, headed over as he closed the book he was reading. “We’re in Mistral,” he explained. “Mistral security picked us up and took us here after the fight at Kuroyuri.”

“All the way out there?” Pyrrha asked, blinking. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“No, Uncle Qrow went ahead for us, and we ran as far as we could to meet them halfway,” Ruby said, pulling away from Pyrrha. “Or… kind of halfway. I don’t really know how far we were. How are you feeling?”

Pyrrha groaned again, this time rubbing her head as she sat up in the bed. “Uh… well, about as alright as I think I can be, considering what happened. How long has it been since Kuroyuri?”

“Nine, ten days?” Nora said, shrugging. “You were out for a good while. Scared the hell out of us when we were getting you here.”

Immediately, Pyrrha sighed, closing her eyes and burying her face in her hands. Ruby could only rub her shoulder in an attempt to assure her that it was alright. “I’m sorry I made you all worry,” Pyrrha said. “So, wait, we’re in Mistral now, right? So, did we find anything out?”

“Not exactly,” Ren admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“We’ve been so worried about you, we didn’t want to leave the room,” Nora explained.

“Don’t worry, though,” Ruby said, smiling at Pyrrha. “My Uncle Qrow’s going to help us out. He’s finding some people that can help!”

Almost at precisely that moment, Uncle Qrow came in, looking even more pissed off than usual. This couldn’t be good. “Oh hey, you’re awake,” he said, glancing at Pyrrha as he took a seat. “Good to see.”

“Uncle Qrow? Um… is everything good? Are we-”

“No, we’re _not,”_ he shot back, popping open his flask. “I’m not going to make a long story even longer. I can’t find the people I thought could help. So, we’re going to do something a bit different. She good to go?”

Pyrrha blinked, staring at the various things in her arms and tied to her. “Uh, I just woke up, so…”

“Good enough,” he said, shrugging. He took a violent swig of alcohol, putting the lid back on as he let out a huff of air. “Get your shit, let’s go.”

* * *

As it turned out, they were heading directly to the source today. Uncle Qrow had told them that Headmaster Judas L’Etranger was a friend of both his and Ozpin’s. Pyrrha had been broadly briefed on the news of the Relics, quite a shock for her to go from being poisoned to now fully understanding the actual war they faced. The team, with Qrow as their escort, headed into an eerily abandoned-looking Haven Academy. It must have been break – there wasn’t even any faculty around. As they walked down the halls, Ruby scanned over the various accolades and awards that the school had won and been given under the Headmaster’s guiding hand. At least four Vytal Tournament wins to his name, plaques commemorating the school’s success, and even a ceremonial sword inscribed with Mistral’s motto adorned the trophy cases. Banners reminded students of upcoming events as various posters and flyers provided updates and news bulletins.

Eventually, though, they got to the faculty side of the school where the colorful notices gave way to beige notes and announcements. Occasionally, she saw something personal on one of the cork boards that were set up next to professor’s offices, a small hint that there was _some_ personality allowed at Haven. She began to wonder what her life would have been like if she had gone here instead of Beacon.

“His office is just up ahead,” Uncle Qrow informed them, barely even turning back. Ruby looked down the hallway, spotting a pair of massive, dark doors that were the textbook definition of imposing. Large golden knockers were installed on them, decorated with an ornate Grimm’s head and brass rings. Qrow took one up in his hands, the heavy oak booming as the ring fell against it.

_“Go away,”_ came the voice from inside.

Regardless, Qrow sighed and opened the door. “Hey, we have to talk.”

Headmaster L’Etranger himself looked up, a glass of wine in one hand, and a book in the other. His dark eyes seemed to pierce her very soul as he stared at them, a frown creeping across his bony, angular face. When he saw who it was, though, he seemed to genuinely smile. “Oh, Qrow Branwen, please,” he said pleasantly, but he quickly furrowed his brow and scowled. “_Go fuck yourself._”

“Come on, don’t give me that,” Qrow said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I need your help. _We_ need your help.”

He sighed, closing his book and placing it on his desk, neatly arranged with pictures, mementos of past missions, and what she assumed were previous weapons he had once used. He swirled the wine in his hand, regarding them with a suspicious eye. “I suppose I could spare _some_ time for… an old friend. Are the _children_ aware?”

“Yeah, they’re with us. I told them everything.”

Headmaster L’Etranger glared at Qrow, narrowing his eyes. “I see. Well, what is it you seek to know?” He leaned against his desk, trading the wine for a cigarette that just barely illuminated his jet-black hair as he lit it.

“Uh, hi, Headmaster L’Etranger,” Ruby said, stepping forward. “Um, we… we were tracking the people who attacked Beacon, and… we think some of them came from Haven. Do you know anything about it?”

“That depends,” he asked, staring Ruby down with cold, soulless eyes. “Who were they?”

Ruby cleared her throat. She had their names inscribed into her memory ever since that day. “Cinder Fall was one of them for sure. The others were Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, and Licorice Grates.”

Headmaster L’Etranger studied her for some time, as if searching for a hole in her story. Eventually, he sighed again, standing up. “Hmm. I am broadly aware of these people. This… Grates person, they do not exist. The others… well, Cinder Fall _was_ a student here, before I expelled her. But, I do not believe the Cinder Fall that I taught and the Cinder Fall that you met are the same person.”

“What’s _that_ mean?” Nora demanded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Headmaster L’Etranger said, circling back to behind his desk. “We have a problem. Qrow, there is a _spy_ in our midst.”

Qrow frowned, looking at the headmaster strangely. “What do you _mean_ there’s a spy? Is this related to all our friends, all those Huntsmen that just disappeared?”

“I fear it is,” he said, exhaling a long puff of noxious smoke. “This spy has already breached our defenses. They have killed our colleagues. And _worst of all,_ they could be _any one of us._ They could be in_ this very room!_ They could be _you!_ They could be _me!_ They could _even_ be-”

“What… what do you _mean_ they could be any one of us?” Pyrrha asked.

“Let me put it this way,” Headmaster L’Etranger said as he pointed to Ruby. “You. What is your Semblance?”

“Uh… I have super speed,” Ruby answered.

The headmaster seemed unimpressed as he blew out a puff of smoke. “So, your deadly skill is _jogging?_ This spy’s is _murdering people._ They can perfectly imitate anyone, their appearance, their mannerisms, the only thing they _can’t_ imitate is the voice.”

“So how do _you_ know all this?” Qrow asked, folding his arms.

“It’s simple,” Headmaster L’Etranger said. “I _met_ them. They almost _killed_ me.”

Qrow shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “So, what, you think this person’s working with Salem?”

“I don’t think it,” he replied. “I _know_ it.”

“Alright,” Nora said, putting her hands on her hips. “So how do we find this spy?”

“You will need to carefully categorize all of your known associates,” Headmaster L’Etranger said. “Analyze all of them for anything out of the ordinary. If even _one_ thing is off, you must kill them without hesitation. It is likely this spy has already murdered them and taken their place weeks ago.”

“K-Kill them?” Pyrrha eked out, practically choking on her own words.

Headmaster L’Etranger nodded grimly. His brow practically shaded his face as he cast a gloomy look to the outside window. “Again, _without hesitation._ This spy is most likely giving information to Salem. If she is aware of what we are planning… well, suffice to say, it would not end very well for us. Acting quickly is of the utmost importance, ladies and gentlemen. This spy is no doubt a master of infiltration.”

“What, are you president of his fan club?” Nora asked sarcastically, scoffing.

At this, the Headmaster whipped around, staring at her with an intensity that Ruby didn’t think she’d see out of him. “No, that would be whoever they’ve _murdered_ to get information! We are at _war,_ little _girl,_ and Salem does not discriminate! She will kill each and every one of you to get what she wants, do I need to remind you of that?”

“Hey,” Uncle Qrow said, stepping in between them. “Look, Jude, I know tensions are high, especially after Beacon’s CCT fell. Is the Relic safe?”

Headmaster L’Etranger sighed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. “After all I’ve just said…”

“I already told them about it, so the secret’s out. Come on.”

“_Fine._ Yes, the Relic is safe and secure. Nobody will be getting to it anytime soon.”

Uncle Qrow nodded, taking a relaxed breath in as he readjusted his jacket. “Alright, _some_ good news today. You still have that knife I gave you?”

Barely an inch away from Qrow’s face, Headmaster L’Etranger manipulated what looked to Ruby like a common butterfly knife, flicking it back and forth as the blade’s edge danced about. With a series of clicks, he had folded it again and held it between his thumb and forefinger, keeping it right in front of Qrow’s eyes. “I never leave home without it.”

“Or your flair for the dramatic,” Uncle Qrow noted. “Alright, we’ll get out of your hair for today, see if we can’t figure out this spy business.”

With another series of clicks, the knife disappeared, no doubt hidden somewhere on the Headmaster’s person. He snuffed out the cigarette, lifting up the glass of wine and taking a sip of it. “Good luck, my friends.” The team left feeling as if they had more questions than answers. But the idea that there was a _spy_ among them? It worried her. Who among them could be a spy?

Would she have to kill any of her friends?

* * *

Uncle Qrow had arranged for them to lodge at a “friend’s” house during their stay in Mistral, apparently one of the Huntsmen that he had tried to contact that turned up dead. Ruby wasn’t ashamed to admit that she felt positively creeped out living in a dead person’s home, but the idea that any of her friends – maybe even Uncle Qrow himself – could be an agent of Salem shook her to the core. She withdrew, as if that’d allay any suspicion upon her, trying to think back on what everyone had said and done. If what Headmaster L’Etranger said was true, which right now she had no reason to disbelieve, then the spy could perfectly imitate anyone.

Which, of course, meant that at any point over the past months of traveling, any one of them could have been replaced by this spy, brutally murdered in the night and their place taken by a turncoat. On the other hand, she distinctly remembered that he had told them this spy couldn’t imitate voices. Well, she knew all of them had been speaking since then. There hadn’t been many moments where they _weren’t_ talking. Ruby couldn’t reconcile how a spy could have infiltrated and taken one of their places if they couldn’t imitate voices.

Unfortunately, it was a conclusion all of them drew, nearly at the same time. They had all but admitted it to each other over an uneasy, tension-filled dinner the next night. Few wanted to believe that the Headmaster could have been wrong, but if he _was?_ Then their search was no longer simply about who hadn’t been talking. The problem Ruby faced now was trying to figure out what sort of behaviors were because of stress, or signs that her former friends had been replaced by a traitor.

Ren had told them to consider abandoning Pyrrha. Was he being his usual realist self, or was that an attempt to dwindle their already thin numbers? Nora jumped a bit too quickly on that train. Did she have an ulterior motive behind it? Pyrrha herself had been first to engage with that Tyrian guy. How did he know where to find them? Uncle Qrow seemed to have all the answers, and even more that seemed outright fantastical. How much of what he said was truth?

Ruby sighed, her head falling back against her bed’s pillow. There were so many unknowns. Could she trust _anyone?_ She never much felt like she had been in control of things before, but now… now it felt like she wasn’t even anywhere near in control. It was more like Ruby was just a passenger, and the demented driver was hellbent on finding every possible way to force her to give up this life.

She really wished Yang was here.


	19. Cloak and Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby, Pyrrha, Ren, Nora and Qrow try to figure out who the spy is.

Tension was rife in the air of the little domicile they were imprisoned within. Ruby, Ren, Nora, Qrow, Pyrrha – all of them were on the lookout, just _waiting_ for someone to slip up and say the wrong thing. One false movement. An uncharacteristic laugh. A look that lingered too long. Any excuse to justify the dreaded accusation of being a spy, that also would send the years they had spent building up their friendships crashing down.

It was no way to live. Ruby wanted to escape this place, but she knew that even stepping outside for a few moments would be grounds for suspicion. Even Nora and Ren snapped at each other for the smallest of things, eyeing each other with the sort of distrust that only came when nobody knew what to believe. Maybe it was a mistake, but the only person she could find herself trusting was Pyrrha. Out of everyone else, she seemed the most genuine and rational – she didn’t try to treat anyone differently, and if anything it was almost like nothing had changed.

Unfortunately, this status put her under the most suspicion. It alternated on the day, of course, since it seemed who was and wasn’t suspicious changed with the passing hour in people’s minds. Ruby couldn’t honestly find a solution to this problem. They were all saying the same things to each other since this broke. Anyone who changed their story would obviously be suspicious. At this point, Ruby wasn’t even convinced there was a spy. If there _was_ one, she believed it was someone else that wasn’t part of their group.

She was brought out of her thoughts and ruminating by Pyrrha, who knocked on her door and let herself in. “Hello, Ruby,” she said, smiling softly. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No, not at all,” Ruby said, shaking her head. She folded her legs up on her bed, giving Pyrrha some space to sit down if she didn’t want to take the chair in the room. “I was just thinking about some things.”

Pyrrha laughed, plopping down next to Ruby. “Like what? The whole spy business?”

“Maybe,” she admitted sheepishly. “I don’t know, maybe we’ve got it all wrong. I mean, we all hate each other now, and nobody trusts each other. Well… I mean, I trust _you,_ Pyrrha, but I don’t know who else I can trust, and that scares me.”

She blinked, before nodding and sighing as her smile began to slowly fade. “That makes sense,” Pyrrha said. “It’s hard to figure out what to do. I mean, your uncle said it best – we’re all suspicious to each other right now.”

That talk had been a particularly _fun_ one. Uncle Qrow had gotten drunk – again – and went on an hour long rant about how each and every one of them was suspicious, listing off the dozens of reasons that could provide a rationale to it. It only added fuel to the fire. Ruby sighed, wishing Jaune was here right now. Out of anyone, she believed he could have been able to help them see through the murky waters of distrust that flooded them right now. “I miss Jaune,” she said, finally vocalizing what she had been feeling ever since she left Patch.

“I do too,” Pyrrha admitted, solemnly nodding. “I think we all do. Though… maybe not as much as you.”

Ruby felt her eyes well up as a lump formed in her throat. Sometimes, she saw him in her dreams, where they had long talks about everything that had happened. He always apologized for leaving her, and Ruby found herself apologizing for not standing by his side. “He always said he was stubborn, selfish and too old for me,” Ruby said, managing to laugh through the tears. “Can you believe it?”

A laugh slipped out of Pyrrha’s mouth as she smiled, looking out the window. “He talked to me all the time about how lucky he was to have found you. You two were good for each other.”

Crestfallen, Ruby’s smile faded again as depression overwhelmed her. “Yeah… a lot of good that did against Cinder.”

“You can’t think like that,” Pyrrha urged. “Jaune made his choice, he… he knew what would happen.”

“I don’t think that helps. Maybe if…” As soon as the sentence formed in her head, an idea came with it. She paused, furrowing her brow as she tried to figure out of this would actually _work._

Pyrrha, meanwhile, looked at Ruby confused, tilting her head. “Maybe if what?”

“Pyrrha, what did the Headmaster say that the spy could do?”

She raised her eyebrows, letting out a huff of air. “Uh… he said they could imitate their appearance, movement, mannerisms… I think that was it.”

“So, if they can do all that… he said they can’t imitate voices, too, right?”

Pyrrha nodded, blinking slowly. “I… believe he said that, yes.”

“He said their Semblance was copying people. You can’t copy a Semblance if you already _have_ one, right?”

The gears in Pyrrha’s head began to turn, and Ruby saw a wave of understanding cross her friend’s face. “I get it, so you think if we can all use our Semblances-”

“Then none of us are the spy!” Ruby said, practically jumping off the bed. “Come on! Let’s go get everyone!”

Together, the two rounded up Ren and Nora, meeting up with Uncle Qrow in the main room. Suspicion still ran high, but they each perked up a little when they explained they had developed a way to figure out of anyone was the spy. The five of them had gathered around the coffee table, with Uncle Qrow taking a spot on the couch with his flask as Ruby explained the process. As long as each of them used their Semblance, that would prove they weren’t the spy.

Thus, each one of them began to demonstrate their Semblance, from Ren’s emotion hiding to Ruby’s super speed. Through it all, Uncle Qrow remained silent, merely observing what was happening and occasionally taking a drink.

“Alright, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby said. “Your turn! The bird thing is part of your Semblance, right?”

Uncle Qrow scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, kid,” he muttered. “My Semblance isn’t exactly something I can turn on or off.”

“So… you’re saying the bird thing _isn’t_ part of your Semblance?” Nora asked. “Ooh! Can you teach _me_ how to be a bird?!”

“No,” he said coldly. “My Semblance is bad luck. Anyone who hangs around me for too long, bad things start happening to them. It’s why I keep to myself a lot of the time.”

Ruby blinked, trying to figure this out. If what he was saying was true, then… if he hadn’t been there, then would Pyrrha have been poisoned? What else would happen if they continued to stay with him? So far, she hadn’t noticed anything terribly bad. “I-I don’t get it,” Ruby said. “But if-”

“If he can’t demonstrate his Semblance,” Ren said, rubbing his chin, “then we have to follow the logic of your own test, Ruby. It follows that because he can’t demonstrate his Semblance, he’s the spy.”

“Hey, listen here,” Uncle Qrow said, frowning and jabbing a finger at Ren. “I’m no spy, alright? Do you really think this spy knows how to turn into a fucking bird?”

They looked to one another, each one giving the same doubtful look. Even for someone as skilled as this spy was meant to be, that seemed like a long stretch. “Okay, I believe we’ve settled _that,_” Pyrrha said, breaking the silence. “So what do we do now?”

Uncle Qrow sighed, lifting up his flask until he looked at it, disappointed. Must have been empty. “We go back to Judas. All of my friends around here are dead, so they’re out of the running. Unless one of you can come up with someone who could be a spy, we’re out of options.”

“Well, we haven’t heard for Blake or Yang in some time,” Ren mused.

“Nobody knows where Blake is,” Ruby countered. “And Yang’s been at home. She… I don’t think she’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

“That’s not important right now,” Uncle Qrow said, haphazardly standing up. “We’ve spent, what, a week trying to figure this out? We need to make sure that Relic is still safe. You know what he said – the spy could be anyone, even him.”

The struggle never truly ended, did it? Ruby sighed, nodding as they began to gather their things. There was no telling what awaited them at Haven Academy, especially if the Headmaster was right about Salem coming to get the Relic.

* * *

The feelings of eeriness did not fade upon their return to Haven Academy. Something felt off almost the minute they stepped in the door, with a veritable wave of unease washing over them. Ruby couldn’t tell what could possibly await them deeper in the halls, especially when the doors to the Headmaster’s office were broken down. Weapons drawn, they rushed in, afraid of what lay beyond.

Unfortunately, it was a scene of total chaos. Headmaster L’Etranger’s office had been ransacked, with the obvious marks of a battle having raged inside. His books, once neatly arranged and orderly, were now scattered, broken and torn on the floor. The bottles of wine, picture frames, and finely polished glasses were all demolished beyond recognition, apparently destroyed by some sort of explosive. A hole had been torn in the wall, revealing the outside world and a neighboring office.

Through the pandemonium was Headmaster L’Etranger’s body, bloody and battered, slumped over his desk. He clutched a revolver in his hand, a shocked expression frozen on his face as he no doubt had died fighting against an unknown foe. Uncle Qrow swore quietly as he walked over the broken glass and furniture to get to him, confirming the ugly truth. The Headmaster was dead.

Silently, as Ruby, Ren, Nora and Pyrrha looked on, Uncle Qrow searched the room. He overturned practically every broken piece of wood in a search for the Relic, no doubt. As his search turned fruitless, however, he began to curse up and down until finally he threw a broken book on the floor. “Relic’s gone,” he declared. “Fucking wonderful. Alright, we’ve got a bigger problem now. We need to figure out where the Relic’s gone, because if Salem has it then we’re done for.”

“Where can we possibly go from here?” Pyrrha asked. “We have no leads.”

“We have to figure something out,” Uncle Qrow muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he left the room. “Come on. We can mourn him later.”

* * *

A week of driving had left Yang and Blake practically at each other’s throats. Blake was convinced that there was no way to accurately track down Raven, especially since she didn’t _want_ to be found. Yang would never give up, though, not while she believed that someone from her gang had attacked Blake. She had to answer for it, and even if she had no involvement, she would get answers from _someone._ The rain had buffeted them on most of the journey, and at times even Yang had to admit she wasn’t sure where the path would take them. But, it was going somewhere, and every little step towards the goal meant it was another day she wasn’t wallowing in her own misery at home.

She didn’t think Blake understood that.

But, as it turned out, if they spent long enough on the road eventually the clues began to stack up. A robbery here. A random attack there. Rumors of disturbing people, that a lot confused for some kind of White Fang splinter. The two practically made a circle around Anima, closing in on a potential location. All it took was just finding the right way in. Interestingly enough, that opportunity came to them sooner rather than later.

Someone had approached them in a roadside diner one day. He was some dickwad, Yang had forgotten his name. Some guy who thought she and Blake were a lesbian couple interested in a threesome with him. The second he suggested it, Yang had launched him practically to the next county, and they set off again on their search to find Raven. He and a handful of others had caught up to them and tried to fight, vowing that when Raven found out what Yang had done, he was dead. Thus, they had been escorted personally to the camp, where she and Blake approached a massive tent.

From said tent, Raven emerged, with a helmet that looked like a Nevermore skull on, her black hair spilling out from it. Her weapon was strapped to the small of her back, concealed only partially by her shallow cut black and red dress. She lifted up her arms to take off her helmet, her gauntlets shining in the dwindling evening sun as stark red eyes stared back at Yang. Next to her, Yang heard Blake audibly gasp. Was she frightened by Raven? Yang couldn’t tell.

“Yang,” Raven said, smiling. “So, after all this time, you’ve finally decided to visit me.”

Yang felt her hand shake, the anger and misery that Raven had ever wrought upon her coming back all at once. But, like she had been able to do so many times before, Yang quelled the disquiet in her soul to stare back, her face hopefully unaffected. “You _know_ I looked for you. I spent years trying.”

“And you found me. You were patient, determined, and strong… just what I expected out of you.” But, just as quickly as it had came, Raven’s smile disappeared, and she regarded Yang and Blake almost out of curiosity. Maybe even pity, perhaps. “Right. I’m sure this is all very overwhelming for you two. But, you’ve proven yourself, Yang. Any questions you have, I’m willing to answer. You can even stay with us tonight – I’ll have the cooks whip something up for you.”

“That’s _not_ why I’m here,” Yang growled. Around her, weapons were cocked and Blake instinctively put her hand on Gambol Shroud.

Raven, however, merely cocked an eyebrow at her, frowning. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you.”

“I’m not here for you,” Yang said. “A week ago, my friend Blake was attacked by someone covered in tattoos. Looking around here, she looked a lot like these people do. Did you order that attack?”

This seemed to catch Raven by surprise. She blinked, before slowly shaking her head. “You’re going to have to do better than that. Give me more about this person.”

Blake stepped forward, her hand still on Gambol Shroud. “She used a rifle and a maul. Her tattoos covered her arms, and she had a skull and crossbones on her cheek. Wore black armor, tan shirt, blue jeans, white hair. What more do you need?”

“She’s not one of us,” Raven said as the details began to come in. “I don’t know her. Whoever attacked you wasn’t part of my group, so… if that’s all you needed, then-”

“What?” Yang asked, frowning. “Just like that? How can I trust you?”

“Because I’m not going to lie to my daughter,” Raven shot back, her voice full of venom. “I didn’t even _know_ your friend until I met her just now. Yang, you’re not stupid, think about it. Why would I attack a friend of my daughter’s when you haven’t done anything to warrant that? How would I even know who your friend was when I haven’t seen you for years?”

“She’s got a point,” Blake quietly said. Yang didn’t want to admit she was right. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The suspicion that Raven had never ordered the attack had been a sinking feeling ever since she had left home, but now it was confirmed. Alright, well, she could pivot. Time to meet up with Ruby.

“Like I said,” Raven continued. “If that’s all you need, then we’re done here.”

“No, it’s not,” Yang said. “Ruby’s somewhere out there. I’m pretty sure she’s with Uncle Qrow, and she’s going to need my help. Mine and Blake’s both. I need you to take me to her.”

“And why would I do that?” Raven asked, blinking slowly.

Yang scowled, clenching her fist. “Because we’re family.”

Her mother scoffed, looking out at the setting sun as she shook her head. “Family. What a pointless word.” She looked back at Yang, frowning. “I’m disappointed – after all, _you_ found _me,_ didn’t you? Why not take that drive and find your little sister if she means that much to you?”

“Because you’re going to save me time,” Yang said. “Ruby was heading to Mistral, but there’s no guarantee that she made it there. Looking around Anima would take ages, but Dad told me how your Semblance works. You bond to people, and when you do, you get a portal to them. You’ve got one for Dad, one for me, and one for Qrow. He promised he’d watch over Ruby before he left, and I trust him. So, make a portal to my uncle and sister, and I’ll be on my way.”

Raven folded her arms, shifting her weight to one side. “It takes a _lot_ of nerve to march in here and demand a favor like that out of me. I’ve got to say… I’m impressed. It’s very noble to want to help out your sister, but if she’s with Qrow… well, then she’s already a lost cause.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Blake asked.

“You two don’t want to get mixed up in all of that,” Raven said, barely even glancing over at Blake. “Ozpin is not the man you think he is, and Qrow is a fool for trusting him. I would know – I trusted him once, too.”

Yang sighed, trying to keep her own anger from boiling over. “I don’t _care_ what you think.”

“Your choice is your own. All I’m suggesting is that instead of getting wrapped up in something too big for you, for _any_ of us, that maybe you take a moment to wonder if you’re where you already belong.”

Blake grabbed Yang’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly as she drew close. “Don’t listen to her, Yang,” she muttered. “I’ve heard this sort of bullshit before.”

“Save your breath,” Yang shot back to her mother. “You can spout off whatever you want, but _nothing_ is going to keep me from my sister!”

Raven seemed somewhat impressed, arching her eyebrows as the faint glimmers of a smile crept across her face. The bandits around them seemed to tense up with every word, nervously waiting for a signal to attack. “Well,” Raven said. “Aren’t you stubborn.”

“I get it from my mom.”

A cold wind blew across the camp, tossing about hair, bits of loose accessories, and leaves as it passed. Raven stared them down, and for all her will, Yang stared right back, unrelenting for even a second. “Very well. You two – in my tent, now.”

“Why?”

“If you’re so insistent on going after your sister, then you need to know the truth.”

Cautiously, Yang and Blake headed for Raven’s tent. The bandits stared at them, on edge for anything to give them a reason to start shooting and stabbing. Still, they seemed to respect Raven’s word, and for now that was all that Yang needed. The heavy canvas flaps rumpled heavily as Yang and Blake made their way in, where massive feathers from a Nevermore lined the walls. Ornate cushions surrounded a small tea table, where one of Raven’s lackeys poured hot tea for them. Neither Blake or Yang felt much like asking for their jet black tea to be modified, though more out of what looked like a ritual than a request, the lackey delicately placed a stick of cinnamon and a sprig of basil into Raven’s cup. Behind them, a grandfather clock ticked rhythmically. As she looked at the barrels full of unknown goods and rugs lined on the floor, Yang couldn’t help but wonder how much of this Raven had actually purchased or simply stolen from people.

“You know,” Raven said as she stirred the cinnamon stick in her tea. “It’s better when it’s hot.”

“I don’t care,” Yang said. “I’m not here for some fucking tea. What’s this ‘truth?’”

Blake took a sip of the tea, grimacing slightly. “You know, you’ve really obnoxious,” she said to Raven.

“The truth is that truth is hard to come by,” Raven said, ignoring Blake and Yang. “A story of victory for one person is a story of defeat for someone else. By now, I’m sure your uncle has told Ruby and her friends plenty of stories.”

Yang narrowed her eyes, her arms folded as she silently fumed. “He’s never given me a reason to doubt him before.”

“That doesn’t mean those reasons don’t exist. You know, you and your teammates might as well be poster children for the Huntsmen academies. Your motives vary, but you all enrolled to try and make the world a better place. It’s adorable, really.”

“It’s what Hunters _do,”_ Yang countered.

Raven smiled, laughing quietly after taking a sip of her tea. “Not _all_ of them. Some are just in it for the money and fame, but there’s even more that are just looking to get stronger. Your Uncle Qrow and I didn’t join Beacon to become Hunters, we did it to learn how to _kill_ them.”

Blake and Yang gasped. She looked over to see Blake wore the same shocked expression. This ran counter to everything Dad and Qrow had ever told her. The teacup in Blake’s hand shook, tiny droplets of tea flying out as she tried in vain to get it under control.

“Ooh, Daddy and Uncle left that part out, huh?” Raven mocked, still wearing her evil smile. “Aside from the Grimm, Hunters were the only ones capable of ruining our raids and hunting us down. We needed a counterforce, and Qrow and I were the perfect age. The entrance exams were child’s play compared to what we had been through. We were good – so good, we caught Headmaster Ozpin’s attention. I thought it was because he knew, but it was Team STRQ he was interested in.”

“What do you mean?” Yang asked, finding her voice.

“Constant attention, extra training missions, turning a blind eye when we happened to break the rules and get into more trouble than we should have. Sound familiar?”

Yang sputtered, blinking furiously as she tried to figure out what words meant anymore. “What’s your point?!”

“How much do you _really_ know about Ozpin?” Raven questioned.

Blake set the tea down, glancing at Yang. She shrugged as she looked back to Raven. “He was a prodigy. One of the youngest headmasters ever appointed to Beacon.”

Her mother laughed, stirring the cinnamon stick in her tea again. “That’s how he planned it. The man you know as Ozpin designed these schools and has followers inside every academy on Remnant that are loyal to him and nobody else.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Yang said, furrowing her brow. “How could he… no! Why would he even do that?!”

“Because old man Oz has a terrible secret, one that could turn the entire world upside down. One that he entrusted with our team, and once I knew, there was _no_ going back. I needed to know more, but the more I learned, the worse the world became.”

Yang sighed, shaking her head. “Then tell us. What’s this big secret? What’s so crazy that the rest of us don’t know?”

“Well… if we want to be technical, there’s two things,” Raven said slyly, sipping on her tea. “The first is that the Grimm have a master named Salem. She can’t be stopped, she can’t be reasoned with, and she will not rest until humanity – human and Faunus alike – crumble at her feet.”

A pin could drop and it could be the loudest thing in the room. Yang stared at her mother in shocked silence, trying to reconcile this. This didn’t make any sense.

“What?” Blake eked out.

“You know,” Raven said unhelpfully, “you two haven’t even touched your tea.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?!” Yang shouted, standing up. “Fucking tea?! What the fuck’s the other secret, then?!”

A hollow laugh escaped Raven’s lips, echoing in the tent. Her smile brought upon by the laughter disappeared as quick as a flash, replaced by an empty, despair-filled look. “Oh, that’s my _favorite._ You see, Ozpin wanted to find out what Salem knew. He wanted special infiltrators, a bad luck charm that hung around Salem’s neck like her jewelry. He gave Qrow and I the power to turn into birds, wiped Qrow’s memories and changed his Semblance to give Salem all the bad luck in the world. And, as a special gift, gave me this Semblance so that we could keep in contact.”

If Yang had felt like the world didn’t make sense before, then she was definitely feeling as if nothing made sense now. Nothing was fitting together, and it was like she had just been thrown into an entirely new world. What kind of madness what this? She clenched her fists again, her teeth grinding against one another. “Why should we trust what you’re saying?”

“Now you’re catching on. So far, you’ve done nothing but accept what you’ve been told. But, you need to question _everything,_ otherwise you’ll end up just as blind as your uncle and your _fool_ of a father.”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my family like that!” Yang yelled, destroying the table in a fit of rage. Behind her, someone readied a weapon.

“You need to calm down,” Raven’s lackey said.

Immediately, Blake grabbed Yang’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Yang, please,” she said.

“Listen to your friend, Yang,” Raven said. “Your teammates have never let you down before.”

“You don’t know the _first thing_ about my teammates!” Yang shouted. “About _me!_ You _left us!_ Why?!”

Unfazed, Raven merely sighed. “I know more than you realize. Not just about you, and not just what I’ve been told, but what I’ve seen with my own two eyes. I’m giving you a choice,” she said, before standing up and slicing her sword through the air, creating a pitch black portal surrounded by a ring of red. “Stay here with me, and I’ll answer all your questions and more. We can have a fresh start. Or, place your trust in someone who has hidden so much from you.”

Yang and Blake stood up, looking at one another. For her, the choice was clear. Yang glared at her mother, frowning. “All I care about is making sure my sister is safe.”

Sighing, Raven rolled her eyes. She sheathed her sword, shaking her head. “Yang, if you side with your uncle, I may not be as kind next time we meet.”

“You weren’t kind _this_ time,” Blake replied, folding her arms.

“I know,” Raven flatly said. “Go back to Qrow and his impossible war against Salem, then, and die like so many others.”


	20. The More The Merrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dejected, RNPR and Qrow try to figure out the next step.

Cold, harsh rain fell upon them as they exited Haven Academy, a howling wind screaming across the landscape. Leaves scattered and rustled, dancing madly in the downpour as the trees themselves shook. Ruby sighed, pulling up her hood to protect herself from the rain. Nothing seemed to be going their way this week. First a fight when they least expected it, now their only source of information was dead, the Relic was gone, and now _this._ Was the world ever going to give them a break?

Just as they had approached the square in front of Haven Academy, though, a bizarre, red-lined oval burst forth in mid-air, enveloping pure darkness within. Uncle Qrow muttered something under his breath, immediately readying his weapon as he saw it. Ruby, however, couldn’t help but stare at it. What _was_ this thing? Would there be a Grimm coming out of it, or something else?

After a tense few moments, however, Yang and Blake appeared through the portal, wheeling Bumblebee through. Yang’s look of consternation melted away, replaced by an overjoyed expression as she made eye contact with Ruby. She hastily set her bike up and sprinted for Ruby, practically tackling her much to Ruby’s joy and obvious confusion. “Yang?” she asked. “How did you get here? What’s going on? How’s Blake with you?”

“We can explain it,” Yang said, holding her sister tightly. “I promise. But first-”

At that exact moment, Ruby’s Scroll began to buzz. Now with all parties equally confused, Yang released her death grip on her sister, allowing her to dig her Scroll out of her pocket. _Weiss_ was calling. With a convergence that seemed excruciatingly unlikely at best, Ruby answered, half-expecting some sort of ransom at this point. “Hello?”

“Ruby!” Weiss screamed. “Thank God you picked up!”

“Weiss? What’s going on?”

A shot rang out from the other end of the line. Through what few images she could see – the connection was apparently bad, making the video side of it more like a slideshow than an actual video feed – Weiss was surrounded by forests. “I’m being attacked by someone! I don’t care how, you need to _get here!_”

“Attacked?” Blake asked. “Do you-”

“Where are you, Weiss?”

“Near Kuchinashi!” Weiss reported. “Please! Help me!”

The call cut off, but not before Ruby could capture a picture of Weiss’s potential pursuer. She couldn’t make out many details, angling her phone around to show everyone who had been chasing after Weiss. Nobody seemed to be able to recognize them.

Except Blake and Yang. Their faces paled when they saw the image. “We’ve got to go, _now,_” Blake said, her voice full of panic. “She’ll kill Weiss if we don’t get there soon.”

“Kuchinashi is nearly sixty miles away from here,” Uncle Qrow said. “We’ll be lucky to make it by nightfall without a ride.”

“Blake and I can make it,” Yang said, already putting her helmet on and jumping on Bumblebee. “You guys do what you can, alright?”

“We made it from Kuroyuri to here with Pyrrha wounded,” Nora said, shrugging. “How hard can it be with all of us healthy?”

“What are we all standing around for?!” Ruby shouted, already heading south. “We have to help Weiss out, now!”

For the second time in a month, they raced across Mistral to make it to a new target, this time the town of Kuchinashi. It reminded Ruby far too much of charging to Mistral itself in the torrential downpour. This time, the sun was out, almost oppressively bright. Once again, Ruby was running over uneven, rocky ground, her feet crying out in pain as they ran to the neighboring town.

She didn’t know how long it had taken them to get there. Night had fallen by the time they managed to link up with Yang, Blake and Uncle Qrow, where they had loaded Weiss onto the back of Bumblebee. Her blue dress, accented with thin strips of white, was bloody and torn. Bruises dotted her arms and face, and for all her straining Ruby couldn’t tell if Weiss was even breathing or not. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Qrow holding her back and telling her that they heard her talk, Ruby would have been sure Weiss was dead.

They took Weiss back to Mistral, assisted along the way by Mistral security teams that picked them up in the same sort of APC Ruby rode in earlier this month. Ruby refused to leave Weiss’s side, even at the insistence of the medicos that tried to treat her. It was a harsh reminder that, no matter how often Ruby tried to get away from it, her friends were always the ones getting hurt.

Maybe it would be better if Ruby had been the one to go alone and get injured.

* * *

Weiss slowly opened her eyes, a myriad of machines and medical equipment hooked up to her. Her head pounded, vision blurry as she tried to make sense of the world again. Were the walls this brightly white because she was close to death, or had they always been this way? Weiss coughed, a horrible, retching noise that echoed as a sharp stabbing pain enveloped her chest. She tried to breathe deeply as the coughing fit faded away, but that proved difficult at best. As Weiss’s eyes began to gain focus, she saw Ruby with a huge smile on her face, wrapping her up in a bear hug that threatened to crush her. “Oh my God!” Ruby said, on the verge of tears. “I thought you’d never wake up!”

“Ruby,” Weiss muttered. She returned the hug best she could. It was nice to have Ruby back. It was even nicer having her hugs back. They had been a staple between the two at Beacon after the first few weeks, once Weiss realized she could trust her team leader to help and effectively lead. “I… where are we?”

“Mistral City. We took you to the hospital when we found you.” Ruby broke from the hug, resting her hand on Weiss’s shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re all safe now.”

She sighed, content that – for now, at least – all in the world was right. But, Weiss has spent too much time cooped up in a room doing nothing. Injured or not, she had to _act._ “Alright, so, what’s next? How do we help the Headmaster?”

Ruby drew a sharp, hesitant breath, suddenly taking her hand away. By now, Weiss had the cognition to look around, and saw that Ren, Nora, Pyrrha, Yang, Blake and someone she hadn’t met before were all in the room, each one looking downtrodden and anxious. Something was clearly not right here.

The unknown man took a swig from his flask, his face neutral and deadpan. “Alright, update time, kid.”

He told Weiss about the _real_ reasons behind their war. He introduced himself as Ruby’s Uncle Qrow, and said he was a close friend of Headmaster Ozpin. According to him, the Grimm’s leader, Salem, was seeking to take over the world and she needed four Relics to do it. The good news – he knew where all of them were. The bad news – one was now gone, and they had to figure out where it had been taken. He told Weiss that their best lead to finding the Relic of Knowledge was now gone, and they had to pick up the pieces of Ozpin’s legacy.

“I think you’re leaving something out,” Yang said, her arms folded. Immediately, all eyes – save for Blake’s – turned to her, and the two stared at Qrow with accusatory looks on their faces.

“What, you saying you’ve got something new for us?” Qrow asked skeptically.

Yang shook her head as she leaned against the wall. To Weiss, it felt like she was boring holes in Qrow. “I saw Raven. We _both_ did.”

“What?” Qrow asked. Whoever this Raven was, it looked like Qrow wasn’t happy to hear about them. “When the hell did you do _that?_ Why did – you know what, I don’t care. What did she tell you?”

“She told me that Headmaster Ozpin changed your Semblance, wiped your memories. She told _us_ that he plans things, that he’s got… I don’t know, followers all over the world! How could you hide this from us?”

Blake stared at Qrow, her expression unchanging. “Raven told us that you joined Beacon to learn how to kill Hunters. Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s another thing!” Yang shouted, a sarcastic laugh emanating from her mouth. “When were you planning on telling me that you’re part of the same raiders that terrorize Anima?”

Qrow clenched his fist, growling as he narrowed his eyes at them. “You can’t believe a _word_ Raven says, do you understand me, Yang? She’s lying. Everything she does has an agenda behind it.”

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Blake interrogated.

“Then who _do_ I believe?” Yang asked, throwing her arms wide. “_You?!_ You told us Ozpin was gone! You told us that we’d be continuing Ozpin’s work! Well, I don’t see him here! How is any of this what he wanted us to do?!”

Just as Qrow began to reply, a knock came at the door. Curious, Ren opened it to reveal a young boy standing on the other side, a backpack strapped to him. Messy, unkempt black hair covered his head, with dirty and patched pants held up by orange suspenders over a white shirt. He coughed, apparently trying to figure out how to introduce himself.

“And who are you?” Qrow asked.

“Um…” the boy said. “Well… he said you’d know if I showed you this.” He took his backpack off, taking out a green-colored cane from it. A cane that Weiss immediately realized was Ozpin’s. This didn’t make sense, though so far, not much was making sense to Weiss anymore.

They stared at the boy, until Qrow broke the silence by laughing. “Heh, I knew it. Good to see you back, Oz.”

“For those of us who _aren’t_ blessed with omniscient knowledge,” Blake said, “what the fuck is going on here?”

The boy’s eyes flashed gold for a short moment, and in an instant his demeanor changed. Gone was the awkward farmhand, replaced by someone who looked incredibly self-confident and assured. “It… is a lot to take in, I admit,” he said. “But, I am Ozpin. I… reincarnate each time I die. So, we should get back to work, shall we?”

Okay. That sealed it. Weiss had _definitely_ died. There was no way any of this made sense in the world she knew.

“One problem,” Qrow said. “The Relic here is gone. We don’t have any leads.”

Yang shrugged, looking around uneasily. “Well… we do have _one_ lead. Like, ignoring what… ‘Ozpin’ said, someone’s attacked Blake, and if what we saw was right, that same crazy bitch attacked Weiss.”

“Wait, what?” Weiss asked. “She was gone by the time you guys got there, I thought.”

“Not when we were helping you,” Blake said. “Before. I headed to Patch to see Yang, and when I got there, someone started shooting at me.”

“Okay, it’s a start,” Qrow said, taking a drink from his flask. “So, Weiss, what’d this chick look like? Let’s make sure it’s the same person.”

Weiss blinked, trying to recall every detail. The intense hate she had in her eyes was the only thing Weiss had been able to focus on, but she recalled that she had tattoos. A lot of them, honestly. She relayed to her friends the strange person’s white hair and extreme cruelty that she utilized while fighting her, from the impossibly hard hits she took from the girl’s warhammer to shots that hurt more than anything she could remember.

As she told her friends about the strange attacker, Weiss saw the concern and worry only increase. Yang sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead. “Alright, cool, that’s the same person that attacked Blake.”

“So… what does that mean?” Ruby asked.

Blake shrugged. “Well… someone’s targeting us. Why, who knows.”

“I think I’ve got an idea where to go,” Qrow said. “Those tats you guys talked about, they’re a popular thing in Gorizont, usually an underground criminal kind of thing. Don’t ask me how I know.”

“Do you think that the Relic is in Gorizont?” Pyrrha asked.

“It very well could be,” Ozpin said. “If the Relic is gone, we must assume it was stolen. Salem has many connections to the underworld in Gorizont, and if this person is connected to it, then we must investigate.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Weiss said, propping herself up despite her body protesting against it. “I can’t go to Gorizont.”

Her friends and new-found allies stared at her in confusion, each one asking why. It didn’t make sense to them, obviously. Ozpin silenced them with a single hand, his face full of concern. “I… don’t believe I understand, Miss Schnee. Why can’t you go to Gorizont?”

“I left Atlas with my sister’s help,” Weiss explained. “That is _not_ easy to do, especially when the Schnee Dust Company controls the army and police. In exchange for my sister’s help, I made a promise to her that I would never go to Gorizont, and neither would any of my friends – even if it _was_ for the Headmaster.”

The boy masquerading as Ozpin sighed, pacing around the room. “The commitments one makes to their family is certainly something to commend, and the sort of thing to uphold.”

“Weiss, we _have_ to do this,” Ruby pleaded, grasping Weiss’s hand. “Please. We can’t fight Salem if we don’t have these Relics.”

“Why does it have to be _us?!_” Weiss demanded. “We… we could call Winter, she can get her squad to investigate, and then-”

Qrow shook his head, stepping forward. “Look, kid, at some point you have to take your own life under your control. You can’t let other people dictate it.”

Her head began to hurt again. Just when she thought this world made sense, when she thought she had things figured out, _something_ had to change. _Something_ had to challenge her entire viewpoint. First, it had been the Faunus, thanks to Blake. Now it was the very fabric of reality itself? Shadow wars, Relics of divine power, reincarnation, trips to dangerous corners of the world, and now the realization that, once again, she had been blindly following someone else’s orders just because they said so. “Alright, _fine,_” Weiss muttered. “But just know that I’m not going to like it!”

* * *

The airship to Gorizont was not very well populated. Gorizont’s port city of Veliky Kursk was apparently not a popular destination, and they were looked upon oddly for even buying tickets on the airship to begin with. Weiss didn’t mind – after all, watching the North Sea pass her by was far more interesting than staring out the hospital window. She hadn’t fully recovered from her injuries yet, but she could walk, which on its own was good enough. Still, the sharp stabbing that plagued her chest every time she breathed too deeply managed to make itself known, just infrequent enough to be annoying.

The weather in Gorizont was unusually cold, even colder than Atlas apparently, and thus they had shopped around Mistral for appropriate clothing. Blake traded out her white coat and revealing shirt for a bomber jacket that she kept tightly closed, outfitted with fur lining. Pyrrha complemented her heavy cargo pants with a wool tunic that featured four pockets and epaulettes with intricate piping bearing her usual color scheme. Ruby took a heavier shirt and let her cloak fly free, while Yang was good with her long-sleeved duster that she had worn for all of Mistral. Ren and Nora both had jackets with heavy quilted liners, while Qrow and Ozpin had equally utilitarian coats. Weiss’s dress, while suitable for Atlas and Mistral, was not appropriate for Gorizont, and thus she had requisitioned a white wool skirt that reached her knees, with a blue wool peacoat to complement it.

As they floated over the oceans, Weiss found little to occupy her time. She could practice small-scale summoning, creating small familiars of ice golems and defeated Grimm, but larger familiars required much more space – and concentration – that she simply didn’t have right now. Ruby made frequent trips to her room, catching up with her and no doubt seeking comfort in an old friend. Weiss knew full well how terribly Jaune’s loss had affected Ruby, and seeing her no doubt made that loss easier.

Weiss should have been there after Beacon’s fall.

It was a sentiment she repeated to Ruby often, but Ruby either didn’t care, or didn’t want to tell Weiss otherwise. All she ever said was “it’s okay” when Weiss pleaded for forgiveness. Did Weiss deserve it? She wasn’t sure anymore. How cruel must she have been, to abandon her dearest friend in her time of need. Who did Weiss think she was, to up and leave Ruby when she had lost her beloved boyfriend, her school, and half her team in one fell swoop? Ultimately, back then, she had been someone who followed orders without question. When Father told her to jump, Weiss only ever asked how high.

Halfway through the trip, however, Yang and Blake began to come around for visits, though Weiss quickly suspected not all of their visits were social. Blake tried to make conversation, but Weiss could tell Yang had a lot more on her mind than just whatever local food the Gorizont-born crew served them. It came to a head right when the two interrupted Weiss’s ritualistic practicing for a fifth time in the past hour alone. They had barged in here, nervously looking around, prompting Weiss to question why on earth they had – _again_ – just come in here. She could have been doing _anything_, after all.

“Listen,” Yang said, closing the door behind her. “Do you believe everything you’re told?”

The question struck Weiss as odd. She blinked, trying to figure out what in the world she meant. Blake looked deathly serious about all this, not at all unusual for her teammate, but the intensity in her eyes was something else. “I… I don’t know, why? What’s this about?”

“We think Raven might have had some truth to her stories,” Blake informed her. “What’s your take on it?”

“I barely even know if I can trust what _any_ of you are saying,” Weiss replied. “It felt like a month ago, we were helping protect the world. Now I’m told that there’s a supreme leader to the Grimm, ancient Relics, and people determined to stop us by any means necessary. How would _you_ feel if you woke up and had been told all that?”

“But you get where I’m coming from,” Yang said, ignoring Weiss’s suspicions. “Ozpin’s done some shady things.”

“We don’t know that,” Weiss contested. “You heard Qrow. She could by lying to us.”

Blake shrugged her shoulders, leaning against the wall. “What if she’s not? What agenda does she have to lie?”

“I’m not speculating on the intentions of people I’ve never met!” Weiss said, perhaps a bit more harshly than she intended. “I just… things haven’t made sense in a while. I don’t know if you’re looking for support or what-”

Yang shook her head, taking a seat next to Weiss. Her hand – Yang’s actual hand, not the metal one that was now replacing her lost limb – rested on Weiss’s shoulder, and Yang looked down at the floor. “I’m not looking for anything, other than just confirmation that I’m not crazy. I know my uncle Qrow doesn’t trust Raven, and… he’s got some _good_ fucking reasons to. But I’m saying that maybe not everything is what we think it is.”

That was the ultimate question, wasn’t it? It felt like lately, that sentence was coming up a lot. _Not everything is what we think it is._ Weiss sighed, slowly closing and opening her eyes as if that’d give her newfound clarity on the situation. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you guys. I do. I believe Raven told you that. Just… I don’t know… it feels like every time I get comfortable, something else happens.”

“I get it,” Blake said. “It’s… that’s happened to me a lot too. I mean, we’re doing something that I don’t think even a small part of the world knows about, much less suspects is happening. If someone told _you_ that there was someone named Salem controlling the Grimm two years ago, what would you have said?”

Yang laughed softly, taking her hand off Weiss’s shoulder. “I’d have called them nuts and laughed in their face. We’d all do that, I think.”

“Like I said. I don’t think you guys are crazy. I just want to make sure I know what’s going on before something happens,” Weiss said.

“That makes sense,” Blake admitted. “Well, maybe when we get to Gorizont, we can get some answers.”

“Yeah,” Yang muttered. “Hey, so, you never really did explain it. What’s your sister’s deal with Gorizont, anyway? Why didn’t she want you going there?”

Weiss sighed. Gorizont was _not_ a friend to Atlas, a fact Weiss made clear almost the second they set out on this venture. The people of Gorizont were radicals, the sort of people that hated Atlas, Mistral, practically all of Remnant besides themselves, or so the propaganda said. “Well, their communal lifestyle is at odds with what we hold sacred in Atlas,” she said. “Winter doesn’t trust anyone from Gorizont – she told me as much during the Vytal Festival. I suspect that same sentiment holds true for a lot of Atlesian people.”

“It seems alright to me,” Blake said. “I mean, helping people out is kind of any decent person’s thing, right?”

“Not the way they do it,” Weiss said, shaking her head. “We were taught that in Gorizont, you don’t own your own house, or apartment, or anything like that. Whatever you live in or get is from the state, and they don’t even have a King or a Queen. I don’t think they even use Lien there.”

“What? Then how do they pay for stuff?” Yang asked.

Weiss shrugged. “We were told that everyone gets credit for the work they do, and they have cards to handle it. I don’t know for sure, I never much paid attention in my political education classes.”

“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Blake said. “It can’t be all bad.”

“I suppose not,” Weiss said. Yang and Blake soon departed, having decided to trade theories on who the strange attacker was and where in Gorizont they could find her. Weiss hadn’t even made it past the borders of Vale and she was already sick of being in Gorizont. Maybe like so many other things in her life, she’d be wrong about all this.

Or, maybe for once, she was right about it all.


	21. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang arrives in the Gorizont port city of Veliky Kursk, following the only lead they have.

The port city of Veliky Kursk was abuzz with activity. Ships, both sea and air, flew flags from all the Kingdoms high as they docked in the many ports, though Yang suspected some of them were Atlesian ships in disguise. People, human and Faunus alike, traded with Lien and actual goods in the numerous shops all across the wharf. Kids got fizzy drinks from freestanding drink carts, while adults chewed on savory pastries. The buildings, in contrast to the dreary, dull colors that Weiss had told them to expect, were colorful. The decorations were ornate to a degree Yang had never seen before in her life, almost like an art form unto themselves. When brick wasn’t suitable to express the architect’s ideas, intricate and detailed wood carvings were embedded in. Color wasn’t just present – it complemented every idea for the building, a tapestry that relayed a story about the builder’s dreams, goals and aspirations.

But, just in front of every pastel apartment building and vibrant store front, uniformed officers strolled the streets. The men in each group wore black leather jackets with fur caps, while the women had pencil skirts and a small peaked cap that was perpetually cocked to the side, all of them armed with short swords and pistols. They seemed on the lookout for anything that was out of place, any sort of excuse to harass and arrest someone.

“So, we’re here,” Pyrrha said, looking out among the buildings. “Where do we start looking first?”

“Let’s focus on finding this mystery attacker,” Uncle Qrow said. “She’ll lead us to what we need to know.”

Blake scoffed as they began to head into the city. “How can you be so sure?”

“What other lead do we have?” Pyrrha countered. “It wouldn’t do well to just start roaming around Gorizont without a goal in mind.”

“Keep on your toes, kids,” Uncle Qrow reminded them. “We’re not in Vale anymore. These guys are more than happy to arrest us if we look at them wrong, so be on your best behavior.”

Yang didn’t need the reminder. Despite being in a place that ostensibly supported the Faunus, Blake had put her bow back on and tugged at it unconsciously. They kept close to one another, under the watchful eyes of Gorizont police. The air was heavy with oppression, and not just the overbearing police presence – deeper in the city, a loudspeaker echoed, but given how far away it was, Yang couldn’t tell what the words said. At this range, they were just pointless garbled noises.

The hubbub of the port soon gave way to the inner city itself. Tall, narrow buildings lined equally narrow streets, packed to the brim with boxy cars that were alternating pale shades of red, blue, green and yellow. The buildings themselves had color combinations that most others would probably call gaudy, but it was almost coordinated how randomly chosen some of the fascias, trim, and siding was. Gorizont was colorful and beautiful in a way that Yang had never really expected, and for a while, she thought maybe that guy from Gorizont was right all those years ago – maybe she _would_ have done well here, at Gvardiya Academy.

They wandered Veliky Kursk for a while, seeing the sights as best they could while on a fact-finding mission. For now, their rest stop was some sort of store that sold the same savory pastries they had seen at the harbor, this time mass-produced and with a wide variety of fillings available. Most had some kind of meat, but options also included those with only cheese and only vegetables, making it suitable for almost all of them. Yang and Blake had opted to wait outside while the others grabbed some food, a chance for Yang to take a step back and _really_ look at Veliky Kursk.

The buildings seemed old – the color on a lot of them had paled with age, while others had paint chipping off or pieces of their decorations missing. Others were just in a sad state, from either abuse or neglect Yang couldn’t tell. Crumbling bricks adorned one of the short half-walls in front of them, marking out the street from the sidewalk. Through it all, the uniformed officers were present, different groups of three glaring at Yang and Blake as they walked past. A few spoke to each other in a local language Yang didn’t understand, leering at her as they stared at her arm. She was used to the gawking by now – mostly – but the more often these cops stared at her, the less she liked it. What were they planning?

“Hey,” Blake said, smiling as Yang looked over. “Enjoying it here?”

She couldn’t help but smile back. It was like they were back at Beacon, trading quiet moments in the hallways and pretending like they were only ever _just friends._ Yang had never admitted to Blake what she felt, and it was starting to look like she never would, but hey, it was good to keep the mystery sometimes. “Yeah, it’s pretty alright. What about you?”

“It’s a change of pace,” she said, looking out at the row houses and brick walk-ups. “I’ll admit that.”

“Anything to be away from Mistral and Vale,” Yang said, sighing.

“Or Menagerie.”

Yang slid her hand over Blake’s as they leaned against the railing, glancing down to make sure she had actually put it there. “Hey, maybe one of these days we can go there, you and I?”

Within a second, the smile of Blake’s face faded, and she slipped her hand out from underneath Yang’s as she looked down to the ground. “Uh… maybe. Um… I dunno, I don’t think you’d much like it.”

“You sure?” Yang asked, frowning. “I mean, how bad can it-”

“Hey, so… I never asked this, but…”

Her heart skipped a beat – no, ten beats. For what felt like an eternity, Yang’s entire world stopped as she guessed as to what Blake’s next words would be as she hesitated. A flurry of potential confessions and questions flew in her mind. _Do you love me too? Are we an us? Want to run away forever and live in the Mistral mountains as yak herders?_ Though, granted, being a yak herder didn’t sound like her ideal life.

“How much of what Raven said do you believe?”

Oh. It was that. Well, that _was_ a valid question, but it was a lot less exciting.

“Um…” Yang muttered, coming down off the high of imagining the two of them madly making out in the middle of Veliky Kursk. “I don’t know. It’s hard to guess, you know? I don’t trust her totally, but I don’t know if I want to discount everything she’s said as a lie. I thought we talked about this already?”

“Oh, uh, we did,” Blake said, nervously looking away as she rubbed her arm. “But… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking, and… I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out.”

Yang blinked, not quite getting what Blake was saying. “Uh… okay then. Well, when you figure it out, let me know, yeah?” Alright, _that_ went pear-shaped fast. Yang sighed, trying to push how awkward that had been out of her head. Maybe admiring the architecture again would make her forget.

However, someone in the crowd caught her eye. She had red hair, tied back in a neat bun. Her black trenchcoat went down to about her knees, something long strapped to her back. Whether it was a gun or something sheathed, Yang couldn’t tell. Something about her was just overwhelmingly _familiar,_ but she couldn’t place it. What was it? Where had Yang seen this girl before? Yang blinked, furrowing her brow as she tried to place this person in her memory. It sure as hell wasn’t earlier today, Yang knew that much. No, this felt longer ago. Where the hell was it?

Memories of the Vytal Festival flooded back to her in an instant. _Right._ She had seen this girl there, from one of the visiting academies. Vague memories, but memories nonetheless. Maybe she was from here, could help them find this person. Yang stepped off, heading towards her. It didn’t seem like she noticed Yang’s approach. “Hey,” Yang said, tapping the girl’s shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

The girl turned around, blinking for a few seconds. She opened her mouth to say something, but slammed it shut as her eyes grew even wider than they had been before. Without warning, she unslung her rifle and turned it on Yang, bashing her with the stock before Yang could even react.

“Ow!” Yang shouted, reacting to the unprovoked hit. “What the fuck?!”

“Get away from me!” the girl shouted, aiming her rifle at Yang.

“I just wanna talk to you! Put the fucking gun down!”

Footsteps. They were light – Blake’s. She had come to back her up, asking what was going on. The girl snapped her aim in between the two, her breathing rapidly escalating. “Don’t come any closer!”

Yang sighed, readying Ember Celica just in case this girl _really_ wanted to start a fight. The people around them began to run away. Good thing the cops weren’t here right now. “Dude, I just want to talk!”

As the girl squeezed the trigger of her rifle, Yang stared into the eyes of someone that was absolutely, unquestioningly prepared to defend herself, to the death if needed. The shot hit her before anyone even had a chance to say something or move, and in the blink of an eye, Blake had already started engaging with her as Yang found herself thrown back. Time to get to work.

Yang cocked back Ember Celica and began firing off shots, forcing her opponent to displace and start replying with shots of her own. Each one hit Yang, staggering her a few times, but as she got used to the large-caliber Dust rounds slamming into her, Yang adjusted her stance and began to weather them like a statue. Blake kept light and mobile, keeping their new-found foe from getting a clear shot. The girl began retreating, no doubt to give herself space as she shoved new rounds into her rifle. Behind her, Yang heard Ruby and the others shouting, trying to figure out what was going on. No time to appraise them of the situation.

The girl switched to melee, her weapon transforming into a scythe that gave her the reach necessary to knock Blake back for a moment. Nora and Ren closed in while Weiss stayed in the back, all of them supporting their teammates and preventing the strange girl from focusing on any one of them. Yet, even as they overwhelmed her tactically, she still managed to send out precision shots that stopped someone from approaching. Occasionally, one of the shots flew Weiss’s way and her attempts to summon glyphs of ice assistants were interrupted. It was like she knew intimately what they all did, and knew exactly how to counter each of their fighting styles. The girl switched between firing with her rifle and matching melee strikes with an ease she didn’t remember seeing out of _anyone_, much less a Vytal Tournament opponent.

Her Scroll buzzed. The hits she was taking were too much – her Aura was getting critically low now. This wasn’t a tournament fight, she couldn’t just tap out because it got low. Either Yang had to disengage here, or end this fight now. She began to charge in with Blake by her side, but the girl spotted their approach. She racked her rifle’s bolt back, slamming it forward as the stock slid into her shoulder. Another squeeze of the trigger later, and Blake’s form disappeared from her peripheral vision. The sound of her yelping confirmed it – she was definitely knocked out for the count. Yang paused her charge, turning around to see where she had went. The shot had thrown Blake into one of the nearby buildings, the fascia cracked and crumbling around her from the impact.

“Oh shit, Blake!” Yang started running to her, but another shot rang out and threw her to the ground. She tried to get up, but her arms were even weaker than before. Everything hurt. She must have had less than 5% of her Aura left. No way she was in condition to keep fighting. In the chaos of the scene, she had lost track of where everyone else had went. Rolling over, Yang looked around. Nora and Ren were helping each other up, heading away. Pyrrha was locked in what looked like a losing battle, even as she used her Semblance to influence the girl’s swings out of her way. She couldn’t even _see_ Weiss. Qrow looked more concerned with keeping Oscar – or Ozpin, maybe, she couldn’t tell if he had taken over – safe.

The girl seemed to realize how Pyrrha’s Semblance worked. Despite the inherent danger of grabbing a sword, the girl yanked at Pyrrha’s weapon and headbutted her. Now bleeding and disoriented, Pyrrha raised her shield up just in time to be struck again, this time by the butt of the girl’s rifle that was directed right at her stomach. Pyrrha crumpled to the ground, still bleeding and moaning in pain.

Thus, it all came down to Ruby. The two started fighting with their scythes, a battle Yang realized she had seen before. Ruby had _fought_ her during the Vytal Tournament, right? So why had she attacked them? Didn’t she know who they were? That didn’t seem to much matter to the girl, though. She continually attacked Ruby, but Ruby’s skills had grown and their fight was evenly matched. Yang tried to get up to help, but still her body refused to obey her.

For some reason, the girl paused, staring at Ruby confused. This gave enough of an opportunity for Ruby to strike her and send her flying back. She recovered quickly, though, but instead of continuing the assault, she held up a hand. “Wait!” she yelled. “You have silver eyes!”

Ruby paused, Crescent Rose locked back for a strike should this be some kind of trick. “Uh… yes?”

“I do too,” the girl said, using her scythe to pick herself off the ground. “Do you… do you have _any_ idea what that means?”

“Uh… it means I have silver eyes?”

The girl sighed, shaking her head. “Okay, look, your friend said you wanted to talk, right? Come on, we have to go quickly before the police arrive. I can explain everything, I promise.”

“Why should we trust you?!” Yang shouted, finally able to draw the strength to get up. “You _attacked_ us!”

“And I told you I can explain everything!” she shouted back. “Do you want to be arrested by the _militsiya_ or do you want answers?!”

Ruby looked back at Uncle Qrow and Oscar, both of whom just shrugged. Sighing, she turned back to the girl. “Okay, but you _have_ to explain as much as you can,” Ruby declared.

“I will,” the girl said, gesturing for them to follow her. “Come on.”

* * *

She took them to a pastel green row house, urging them through the ornate doors that had too many windows to count and small scenes of some sort of valor carved into it. Some sort of armored vehicle rolled by, carrying the same uniformed people Yang had seen earlier towards the scene of the fight they had just ended. The girl, who by now had introduced herself as Zoya Ivanovna Zvaigzne, peered out the curtained windows nervously as she prepared them a drink to “warm them up.” At first, Yang thought it was alcohol, given its dark color. Instead, the spicy drink tasted a _lot_ like honey, almost overwhelmingly so. But, the taste of cinnamon and inherent warmness did actually help quite a bit. Anything to escape the snow that had begun falling heavily outside.

“So, you said you’d explain some things,” Uncle Qrow said, mixing the new drink with a quick top-off from his flask.

“I did,” Zoya said. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed it… I have silver eyes.”

Yang blinked, looking up at her to see that this claim was true. She did indeed have silver eyes, almost as brilliantly bright as Ruby’s. Hers, though, had a lifetime of pain behind them, not the sort of unmitigated optimism that Yang saw in Ruby’s.

“Wait, so that’s why you stopped fighting?” Blake asked. “Because Ruby has silver eyes too?”

“One of my old teammates, Albina Fominchina Bezzhalostova, she… she’s gotten herself involved with dangerous people. So… to prove herself, she…” Zoya paused, clenching her fist as she drew a sharp breath. Her eyes welled up, and for a moment Yang was afraid she’d start crying and then they’d hear nothing further. “She killed my teammates, Misha and Koyla.”

“Wait, I remember now,” Weiss said. “You and your team were at the Vytal Festival, right? I thought Mikhail and Nikolai were your teammates?”

Zoya nodded solemnly, a wry smile on her face. “They are – _were._ In Gorizont, we call friends and family members by a short form of their name, so Mikhail and Nikolai became Misha and Koyla to me, and I became Zoyushka to them. But, Albina Fominchina didn’t like that. She didn’t want us to be close, so she told us to only ever call her Albina Fominchina. Here, we only ever use a patronymic to people we don’t know very well, or with people above us like a boss.”

“It sounds like she cut herself off from friends,” Pyrrha observed.

“She did,” Zoya recalled, clearly regretful. “She told me, after she killed Misha and Koyla, that if I ever left Gorizont or tried to stop her again, she’d kill me. So, that’s why I defended myself, because I thought she had changed her mind and hired people to kill me. When I saw your friend here, I knew you couldn’t possibly be helping her.”

“Because I have silver eyes, too,” Ruby concluded. “But then why did she go after Blake and Weiss? You guys don’t have silver eyes.”

At this, Zoya’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Yeah,” Uncle Qrow said, tossing over his Scroll. “Here, take a look for yourself. We got a picture of her in the act.”

Zoya looked at the picture, her face turning ashen white when she saw the vague outlines of her former teammate behind Weiss. “My God, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have stopped her, but… well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how dangerous she is. So, I told you what I can, now _you_ tell _me,_ why are you in Gorizont?”

“She might have something we need,” Weiss said. “Albina might be helping our enemies.”

“No, no, you don’t _want_ to find her,” Zoya said, shaking her head emphatically. “The people she works with? They’re ruthless, even more so than she is herself. She took on a new name just to please them. She’ll murder _anyone_ if it means satisfying the people she works for.”

Uncle Qrow sighed, standing up as he mixed his alcoholic concoction together. “Okay kid. Listen, we’re trying to save the world here. If you join us, I can tell you about it. If not, then point us in whatever direction your friend and her friends hide out at and we’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not trying to get caught up in whatever madness Albina Fominchina’s gotten herself into,” Zoya said. “You don’t know these people!”

“Wanna bet?” Yang asked. “Look, whoever these people are? There’s even _worse_ people pulling the strings. We can stop them, but if we don’t know where the fuck to look, it’s pointless!”

Zoya sighed, taking a seat on her couch. She cradled her head in her hands, running fingers through her bun as she no doubt tried to figure out what to do. Yang hoped she’d help them out. “Alright, fine. She works with somebody named Roman. I know where they hide out, but if you want my help? We do things _my_ way, understand?”

“This… wouldn’t happen to be Roman Torchwick, would it?” Pyrrha asked, suddenly uneasy.

“Y-yes, it would, how did-”

“We’re acquainted,” Uncle Qrow said, downing the drink. “Let’s start planning. We need to know everything about these fucks before we go after them.”

Well, that settled it. Their fact-finding mission in Gorizont was over. It was time to take action.

* * *

Zoya explained that her former teammate went by Suka now, a name she had assumed and used almost exclusively. She also further explained that Roman and his underling – someone that Zoya didn’t know the name of and didn’t much care to learn – hid out in the industrial sector of Veliky Kursk, sometimes visited by two other people she called Alpha and Omega. No doubt these were codenames that she used until learning their actual names. Zoya was broadly unaware of Salem, but that didn’t much matter – Roman and whoever he was with, Suka and this unknown underling, had to be working with her. It was the only logical conclusion. Thus, they now had to find out what it was Roman was up to.

But, working in Gorizont was dangerous, as Zoya soon taught them. Every time they headed into her house, she told them to stay silent until she had meticulously checked every room for listening devices. There was a hidden element to Gorizont to ensure the populace stayed loyal, called the Perebezhchik Organization, and hiding listening devices in homes was not the only thing they did. Zoya told them that she had been followed by them several times, and a few of her friends had been cut off from all society because of them. In theory, they were supposed to keep Gorizont safe from the White Fang. In reality, they were tools of oppression.

The time had come to start gathering intelligence. Zoya had already narrowed down where she believed Roman and his allies were operating out of. The next step – for all of them – was to figure out how best to pinpoint his location and come up with a plan of action to stop him. They rotated on going out and reconnoitering the area to avoid suspicion, and Zoya strongly cautioned against getting on the wrong side of the local police, the _militsiya._ They typically operated with impunity, and according to her, whatever they said became law very quickly.

Between the police and this open secret of an organization, it made Ruby wonder why anyone ever stayed here. Zoya was proud of Gorizont – she said that she had been born here, and despite the paranoia and fear that seemed to perpetuate her life, Zoya maintained a positive outlook. After all, she would rather be here, with the knowledge that she can get medical care and a home at any time, instead of in Mistral or Vale, where her chances were nil. Today, Ruby and Zoya had opted to head out, wandering the industrial district on the hunt for clues to Roman. So far, the hints were fleeting.

“So… how was Gvardiya Academy?” Ruby asked.

“We’re not exactly friends, you know,” Zoya replied, tugging at her coat. The snow was falling softly around them, dancing and slipping in between them. Zoya had decided to let her hair down, a stark difference from her usual style. Each little snowflake stuck to her hair, and sometimes her lashes, and for a moment, Ruby found herself awestruck. Not just by Zoya’s response, but by how _pretty_ she was.

“Well, uh…” Ruby muttered, suddenly unsure how to handle herself. Her hand became wet as she ran it through her hair, the small flakes of snow melting the second they made contact with her skin. “I know. I didn’t really think we _were_, but it’d still be nice to know a bit more about you. Other than how you fight, I mean.”

Zoya laughed softly, nodding. “Yes, well… it’s been a long time since I was at the Academy. A lot has changed since then. I just want to find Albina Fominchina. With you helping me, I think I can make her answer for what she did.”

“For killing your teammates?” Ruby guessed. “Yeah, I… I don’t know _what_ I’d do if someone did that to me. I think I got close, though.”

Zoya said nothing, preferring to keep her eyes fixed forward even as the flurries continued to fall around them. Occasionally, she’d let a breath out as if she was anxious, or afraid of something, a wisp of white escaping her mouth.

Honestly, Ruby couldn’t help herself. She hated the silence. “I… lost someone close to me, too. When Beacon fell, we… we were fighting with my boyfriend’s team. Jaune thought that if he could fight their leader…”

“He died fighting them, then,” Zoya finished, almost as if she could read Ruby’s mind. “I know what it’s like for grand dreams like that to take over someone.”

_Grand dreams?_ What was she talking about? Was this some Gorizont thing Ruby didn’t know about? She blinked, watching Zoya look to the sky, as if the clouds that spewed forth tiny white blips of snow would tell her something.

“When we graduated from the Academy, we thought that we could do anything. Maybe we could have. Our service meant different things to all of us, and for a while we got separated, but we were never too far away.”

“Service?” Ruby asked, confused. “What do you mean, like Hunter missions?”

Zoya shook her head, slowing down to a near stop. “Not really. In Gorizont, everyone joins the military. We pay back for some of what we get, if that makes sense. Misha joined with the border troops, he liked helping people and watching over the ports. Koyla wanted to go into the Airborne full time. And… well, Albina Fominchina never much liked being in the military.”

“Why’s that?”

“She would get into fights, and when she wasn’t fighting, she’d be arguing with officers. Surprise, career officers don’t like it when newly-minted Hunters like we were argue with them. I don’t think she ever liked soldiering. She liked when we went out on training exercises, or were sent to kill some Grimm. She got her first tattoo when she killed her first Grimm outside of training.”

Ruby remembered the sketches and photos that Weiss and Zoya had collected on Suka. Her tattoos were numerous, almost so dense it was difficult to find untainted skin on her arms. Only her face was relatively clean, save for the skull and crossbones that made her impossible to miss. Ruby knew she’d never want to meet her in a dark alley without Crescent Rose, that was for sure. “What _is_ the thing with her tattoos anyway?”

Zoya nodded, almost like she had forgotten something. She set her eyes back to keep watch on where she was heading, avoiding patches of hidden ice and irregular holes in the sidewalk that threatened to twist an ankle at any moment. “I don’t know how or when she figured it out – her tattoos are all made with an ink infused with Dust. Her Semblance allows her to draw the power from those tattoos and do… well, basically whatever she wants with it. I’ve only personally seen her conjure extra strength with it, but I imagine she can do anything. She’s put a lot of Dust into herself.”

“What?” Ruby asked, incredulous. “That sounds like… _really_ dangerous.”

“It is. It’s incredibly unhealthy,” Zoya said. “It’ll kill her one of these days. I know because one of my medic friends told me. But… that’s what Albina Fominchina always did. She hated being told what to do. She hated being told what _not_ to do even more.”

“Oh,” Ruby muttered. She glanced over, and found a bizarre, fluttering feeling warm her up. She had spent so much time away from this emotion she scarcely recognized it at first, until the good memories of Jaune and the time she spent with him flooded back to her. Ruby remembered now – this was what it felt like to actually first have her crush on Jaune, before she had ever admitted anything, before he had asked her to see a movie with him. But that wasn’t right – was it? She didn’t like women like that. Or, at least, she didn’t _think_ she did.

“You look like you want to say something,” Zoya said. Ruby immediately realized she had just been caught staring – rather ungracefully – at Zoya this entire time.

“Oh, uh, well,” she stammered. “I… I don’t know, you’ve got me thinking about some things, is all.”

Zoya nodded, taking a hop over a frozen parking barrier. “I see. It’s okay, I’m… _aware_ of the effect I have on women.”

“I-I don’t mean like that!” Ruby unintentionally shouted. Were her cheeks heating up, or was that just her imagination?

“No, really, it’s okay,” she said. “Let’s just focus on the mission, alright?”

And, just like that, the conversation fell silent once again. Other than the crunch of snow under their respective boots, there was virtually no sound to be had in this part of town. Zoya had told them that it was a holiday week off of work for a lot of the factory employees, and other than a skeleton crew of maintenance people to keep the machines from freezing over, there was virtually nobody around in the industrial side of town. Occasionally, a heavily armored vehicle with eight wheels rolled past them in a deep crimson livery, causing Zoya to tense up. Ruby didn’t think it was the police – they had four-wheeled box-like cars that carried them around, not these angular eight-wheeled ones.

“So, this Perebezhchik Organization,” Ruby said. “What do they actually _do?_”

Zoya sighed, shaking her head. “You don’t _want_ to know. The more you know about how they work, the more you see them everywhere.”


	22. Through Valleys and Over Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As clues about their enemies and what they're planning fall into place, Ozpin decides he wants to talk about something. Pyrrha and Zoya head out on a recon mission.

In truth, Ruby wasn’t sure how they had taken nearly a week’s worth of recon missions and came up empty-handed each time. The statistics were improbable – after all, after so many tries, they would have _had_ to find something, right? Apparently not. The lack of answers was frustrating, driving all of them nearly to madness. Ruby figured it was only a matter of time before Yang decided to just cut out the middleman and start kicking in doors to find Roman.

But before that could be accomplished, Ozpin had decided to take Ruby and Zoya to the side one day. She didn’t have to speculate why – they both had silver eyes, so obviously he wanted to talk to them about it. He sealed off a room in Zoya’s house for them to sit in, where she had decided to bring more of the spicy honey drink she loved so much with her, sipping on it as Ozpin paced around.

“I imagine both of you can hazard a guess as to why I’ve brought you in here,” he said. Ruby was unsure whether she would ever be used to Oscar’s body holding Ozpin. It always looked like a kid trying to act like an adult – and being incredibly successful at it.

“I think we can,” Zoya said, cradling her cup in her hands. “You want to talk about our silver eyes.”

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Ruby, I believe you are already familiar with the… abilities that come with this. Miss Zvaigzne, do you know what makes silver eyes so special?”

“Other than Albina Fominchina wants to kill me over them?” she asked, shrugging. “No, not really. Why?”

Ozpin looked at her, but his face betrayed no emotion, no clues as to his internal thoughts. He instead just took his cane, sitting down on one of the beige chairs in the room, crossing his leg over the other. “Well, it’s quite simple. Silver eyes are a weapon that can be used against the Grimm, rather effectively, too. With most people, they can create a light so bright, the Grimm are destroyed immediately. With time and training, one can learn to master this ability, enough to use it on command.”

“That… seems rather fantastical,” Zoya observed. “So just because I have silver eyes, you think I can do this?”

“I don’t think,” Ozpin said. “I _know._ It’s a trait inherent to all those with silver eyes. Now, on to the next part. Have either of you felt that, when in combat, there was something guiding you? Perhaps suggesting the best course of action to take?”

Zoya and Ruby looked to one another, a quizzical look on their faces. But, the more Ruby thought about it, the more she began to realize she _had_ heard those things before. It felt like someone had always been there, like a built-in coach or personal trainer, almost. “Well…” Ruby admitted. “I don’t know if I want to say _guided_ me, but… I guess I’ve always felt like I could do anything.”

“I see. What about you, Miss Zvaigzne?”

“No,” Zoya said, blinking and shaking her head. “No, not at all. What the fuck?”

“So… what does that mean?” Ruby asked. “Am I crazy or something?”

Ozpin laughed, shaking his head. “No, far from it, Miss Rose. You see, long ago, when the Gods of Darkness and Light left Remnant, they entrusted the sanctity of the realm to those with silver eyes. It’s a trait that has been passed down for generations, sometimes quite randomly. But, every time someone with silver eyes has been born, they have stepped up to their role as guardians and protectors. They alone hold the only weapon that can defeat and destroy the Grimm, far more efficiently and effectively than any Dust weapon. Those with silver eyes are feared by not just the Grimm, but by Salem herself.”

“Right…” Zoya said, slamming back her drink. “Well, _you_ may want to be a guardian, Ruby Rose, but I just want to survive. I don’t have whatever power you talk about, and I definitely don’t hear people talking to me in my head. Albina Fominchina wants me dead, I want to make sure she can’t hurt me. Is there anything else, or can I get back to work?”

Ozpin smiled slightly, shaking his head. “No, that is all. Let us hope answers will be coming soon.”

For her part, Ruby could barely believe it. Between just knowing that, and Zoya’s almost scornful outlook on the entire idea, what was Ruby supposed to do now? There had been some very high expectations that were just set upon her. She remembered when all she wanted to do was help people. Now she was being told that her silver eyes made her a guardian of all of Remnant? A destroyer of Grimm?

Where had all the simplicity in her life gone?

* * *

Blake had never much gotten used to the cold. Menagerie had never gotten this bad, maybe at the most a windy day that prompted a light jacket. But here in Gorizont, it was like stepping into a freezer. The air practically froze her every breath when she stepped outside, and her ears – already sensitive to temperature changes – felt like they were perpetually numb if she dared step out without a hat. Not that she ever did – Blake didn’t trust Zoya when she said that all were equal here in Gorizont. She didn’t see many Faunus when at the port, and experience had taught her that if there were no Faunus at the air or sea ports, there probably weren’t any deeper inside.

Owing primarily to the lack of space, Blake and Yang had taken up Zoya’s spare room during their stay here, with everyone else scattered around on couches and piles of blankets spread around. She didn’t mind it, honestly. Yang was a solid sleeper, much better than when she had been forced to huddle next to Weiss on a field exercise that made all four of them sleep in a tent built for two. God, she hadn’t thought about that night in _years._ Weiss had spent nearly the entire night kicking Blake in her sleep, occasionally elbowing her in the side or even jerking her head back. Blake had woken up with more bruises and cuts on her than any duel she had gotten into at Beacon. Compared to _that,_ Yang almost slept like a log.

Of course, the one upside of staying in Gorizont at Zoya’s house was being able to catch up on her reading. Ever since getting off the airship, she had precious little time to actually _finish_ any of the books she had packed for what she expected to be a long trip, and Mistral’s airport bookstore had ample pickings she hadn’t read yet. When not rotating in and out of recon missions that didn’t get anything done, Blake was able to actually read and knock out one book after the other.

At least, she _could_ read her books if Yang didn’t insist on interrupting her.

Yang had never once been subtle in her entire life, Blake began to suspect. She liked to believe that Yang had exited the womb with an uproar, one that had never ceased unless she was unconscious or eating. Blake gathered that Yang wanted to talk about something when she saw her hanging around the room, awkwardly messing with the trinkets and idols that Zoya kept in here, shifting her weight from foot to foot like there were imperceptible spikes underneath her.

“Okay,” Blake muttered, putting her book down and stuffing a bookmark into it. “What do you want to talk about?”

“What makes you think I want to talk about something?” Yang blatantly lied, only half-paying attention to whatever icon she had picked up.

“Because you’re hanging around in here, messing with stuff that isn’t yours, and you keep looking over at me when I turn pages.”

Yang blinked, before sighing and putting down the idol. She headed over to the bed, collapsing on it and crossing her arms behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. “Blake, are we like… a thing?”

What the hell was she talking about? Blake furrowed her brow, as if that would give her further clarity on Yang’s obscure question. “What?”

“You know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Like… a thing. You know?”

“When you start using _words,_ I can tell you.”

Her friend groaned, suddenly sitting up and rubbing the back of her head. “Come on. Like… back at Beacon, we always hung around together-”

“Because we were teammates and _friends,_ Yang.”

“But even without Ruby and Weiss! A-and at the dance, you told me I looked nice!”

Blake arched an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Because you did?”

“And then when you came to find me! You carried me in the house and found pills for me and took care of me!”

“Because that Suka had just beaten the hell out of you and you were hurt!” Blake said. “What did you want me to do, just throw you on the couch and give you a ‘get well soon’ card?”

Yang clenched her fists, slamming her eyes shut. She took several deep breaths, before finally, her lilac eyes opened and she looked at Blake, her shoulders drooping. “Blake. Did you do all of that _just because_ I was hurt, or because you like me? Because I like you a lot, like… more than a friend, you know? And I’ve been thinking a lot about it.”

Just like that, all the bravado and pride Blake had built up for herself disappeared. She had promised herself and Yang that she would never run away again, and here she was – wanting to run the _fuck_ away from this conversation. She had seen Yang rejected before, and it did _not_ turn out well. She swallowed hard, feeling the lump of fear fall down her throat. Well, she may as well confront this head on. “Yang… I… at that dance, and… definitely for a while after, yeah, I’ll admit it. I did have feelings for you then.”

The tension between them felt almost so solid, she could reach out and touch it. Yang’s eyes darted in between her own, almost as if trying to suss out a lie. “I feel like there’s a _but_ coming on.”

“Yeah. I… I don’t know. Something changed when Beacon fell. Like I told you when we were in Patch, I ran away because I was terrified Adam would follow you, follow _me,_ and hurt you. _All_ of you. I didn’t want what happened to you, to happen to anyone else, so I… I just buried those feelings. I took a hammer to every memento I had of what it felt like to have a crush on you, and when I saw you again in Patch, I wasn’t thinking about helping my crush. I was thinking about helping my best friend.”

“So… then that means…” Yang muttered, her eyes becoming glassy as she looked down at the floor. “You… just see me as a friend.”

Blake sighed, a long, drawn-out one that felt like it bounced off the walls. “I think right now, in this exact moment? Yeah. Whatever happened then I… I just don’t feel it anymore, Yang. I’m sorry.”

The room fell quiet as sleet hit the window, a clattering of noise that felt like it would break through the glass any second and make the room even colder than it ever had been before. Blake could do nothing but sit there, powerless to act as Yang no doubt struggled with what had just happened. Her friend just sat on the bed, staring at the floor and occasionally blinking. She could have sworn she saw tears rolling down Yang’s face, but just as quickly as they had come, they were gone.

“Alright then,” Yang finally said, sighing heavily. “Well… thanks for listening, I guess. Sorry I had all these feelings.”

Without much further in the way of fanfare, Yang retreated from the room. For a split second, Blake was absolutely certain she had heard a soft sobbing emanating from her friend, and for an equally quick moment she dared to entertain the thought that she should follow. But, regret and hesitation washed over her. Who did she think she was, to tell Yang the exact opposite of what she wanted to hear, and then think that she would _want_ Blake to comfort her? As the door slowly creaked shut, all Blake could do was sit there in the room, alone once more with her thoughts. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face as she tried to quell the disquiet in her. She had done the right thing, she told herself. There was nothing wrong with once being attracted to someone, and then not. Time apart did not always blossom into love.

So if all of that was true, why did Blake feel like total shit right now?

* * *

Pyrrha didn’t mind the cold. Zoya kept her house warm enough for her liking, and the weather outside, while rather frightful given the circumstances, didn’t pose much of a challenge to her. She tugged at her new tunic, popping up the collar for a bit of added protection against the chilling wind, which was always the same whether she was in Argus or Veliky Kursk. A little fiddling with the roughly textured buttons, and for the moment her neck was protected. Zoya had claimed she had a promising lead to Roman, and it was Pyrrha’s turn to head out with their Gorizont host.

One thing Pyrrha had noticed about Zoya was that she never much liked to wait. When it was time to head out, she wanted to head out the second they had gathered their things. If there was nothing to be found at the sites they visited, she preferred to leave immediately. At first, Pyrrha thought it was just her nature, but the more she learned about Gorizont’s hidden police, the Perebezhchik Organization, the more she realized it was fear of them more than anything else. Their vehicles were distinctive – she heard them roll past at odd hours of the night, occasionally heard low voices outside, followed up quickly by a violent explosion of noise that no doubt signaled the beginning of a no-knock raid somewhere. Zoya always ran into the main room, rifle in hand and half-dressed every time it happened, her eyes wide and full of fear.

It definitely didn’t take a genius to figure out where the fear came from.

Almost without thinking, Pyrrha pulled out her pack of cigarettes, smuggled into Gorizont by a less-than-reputable salesman on the docks. Her lighter was as reliable as ever, and before she could even recognize it, Pyrrha had shoved a cigarette into her mouth and lit it, puffing away as her stress, anxiety and every negative feeling she had bottled in since Mistral faded out like a far-away song.

“You know smoking is banned in Gorizont, right?” Zoya asked.

Her cheeks flushed, and immediately Pyrrha moved to put out the cigarette. “Sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed as she stomped out the illicit relief. “I… I forgot.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t strike one up sooner.”

Well, she couldn’t hide the truth forever. After all, it was better to be honest with this new person than try and conceal things from them. Something about Zoya’s energy just made Pyrrha want to talk to her, share freely any information she had to help her better understand what they were doing to help out Ozpin. “They don’t know that I smoke.”

“I find _that_ hard to believe, but alright.”

“It’s the truth,” Pyrrha admitted. “I started just after I left Signal. I don’t know if you know, but I’m a bit famous over there… and everywhere, to be honest.”

Zoya looked over at her curiously, tilting her head even as her face remained neutral. “I’m familiar. Vaguely. We don’t hear much about people from Mistral, but I remember seeing some things in the news about you. Some kind of prodigy, right?”

“Something like that,” Pyrrha said, chuckling. “Being famous has its downsides, and… the stress to be perfect is one of them. I don’t know _what_ would happen if anyone knew I smoked.”

“So how do you hide it? I know smokers, and they have one hell of a smell about them.”

“I keep a few changes of clothes, wash them as often as I can. Sneak out at night, smoke one, and then get rid of it before I come back in. Always face away from the wind so it can’t go back to me.”

A short laugh emanated from Zoya’s mouth, as she finally smiled in what felt like a week and shook her head. “Wow. Just like Koyla. He did all those things, too, maybe more.”

Suddenly, Pyrrha’s anxiety, once temporarily quieted by the nicotine, was in overdrive. Did anyone know? Did Ruby, or Ren, or Nora, suspect that she was hiding this habit? Her mind began to run through every scenario, and unconsciously Pyrrha began to slow down until she was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the ground.

“Relax,” Zoya said, snapping Pyrrha out of her panic. “I don’t think your friends know. And if they do… I’d wager they don’t care. Nobody takes the ban seriously here, anyway.”

“You don’t know my friends like I do,” Pyrrha countered. “I mean, if some of them…”

“Either they know, or they don’t know,” Zoya replied, shrugging. “Look, going off the things some of your people have said, is something like smoking _really_ that high on the list of things to worry about?”

Well, she had a point there. Between Salem, finding the Relics, and now this business with Suka and Roman… yeah, suddenly smoking seemed like a drop in the bucket. Pyrrha sighed, shaking her head as she began to walk alongside Zoya again. Maybe she was just worrying over nothing again. It had happened before.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Pyrrha said as they headed directly into the industrial district. “What’s this lead you said you found?”

“I have friends that saw our target around the area,” she said. “So, we’re going to see if we can find evidence of him. The factories are working again, so any activity might be covered up, but…”

“But what?”

Zoya rocked her head from side to side, pursing her lips. “But… he would have to use an abandoned warehouse, or similar. People don’t just hang around empty factories and warehouses when there’s work to be done. You’d only be doing that if you’re part of the Organization, or trying to hide. And if it’s the Organization, they’d have one of their vehicles out front.”

_Okay, that made sense,_ Pyrrha thought. If the places they looked at hadn’t been visited, even accidentally, in some time, or were as dusty as they had always been, then it followed that nobody was actually there. Conversely, if there _was_ someone there, then they would have a vehicle outside – one that Zoya claimed was from this Perebezhchik Organization. The third option was that there _was_ someone using the space, but there _was not_ a vehicle, which logically meant that was where Roman was.

The two approached a secluded-looking warehouse, with tire tracks outside but no vehicle parked out front. Zoya examined the tracks, reporting that the impressions left in the snow didn’t match what she knew the Perebezhchik Organization used. That, however, did not eliminate the possibility that they had been here, or even were _still_ here. Pyrrha saw only one option, which Zoya agreed with. They couldn’t be content with simply sitting around outside. They had to check the interior.

Locked doors were everywhere, but thankfully, the iron construction made manipulating them easy. Pyrrha wasn’t exactly an expert on lockpicking, nor had she ever used her Semblance in such a manner before, but somehow she managed to envision the tumblers and pins enough to open the door silently, with none the wiser. Just as quietly, they stepped in.

The warehouse itself was as dusty as dusty could be, but someone had clearly been here. Large boxes dotted the area, some opened with their contents concealed by loose straw, others tightly locked up. The floor, although clearly still a mess judging by the chaotic nature of the random tools and scrap wood lying around, had undoubtedly hosted someone recently judging by the shoeprints in the dust. Someone had cleaned up a section of the warehouse, and a lone lightbulb was on above a chalkboard that, at this distance, Pyrrha couldn’t read. The entire place felt empty and abandoned, and yet it clearly had signs of life. It was a cognitive dissonance that disturbed her.

“Let’s go look at that board,” Zoya said quietly, as if she was afraid someone was still here. Long iron chains hung from the walkways above them, clattering each time someone dared to move them. Glass from several broken bottles, apparently results of a night of drinking and lazily tossed into a random part of the room, snapped and crunched underneath their feet as they headed over to the only illuminated part of the warehouse. As they got closer, the contents of the blackboard became clear. It was a list, first of Relics, and then of potential next locations to head to. Apparently, Roman and his associates believed Gorizont had another Relic, and were on a tireless search for it.

“What the fuck is this?” Zoya asked, furrowing her brow.

“Oh no,” Pyrrha muttered. “He has a Relic. If he has the Relic of Knowledge, then…”

“Wait,” Zoya said, “is this connected to that Salem person? Does Suka know about these things?”

Pyrrha nodded grimly. This was far from good. She put a hand on her head, her anxiety and fear coming back in full force. “If she’s working with Roman, then she has to. There’s no reason he would have this list otherwise.”

“Alright, okay, uh, fuck,” Zoya said. “Well… this list talks about going to Veliky Kursk’s outskirts. They probably think the Relic is out there somewhere.”

“What’s on the outskirts that could interest them?”

Zoya’s shoulders rose up, before she sighed and let them fall dramatically. “I don’t know, not a whole lot. Not unless you like farms and…” She blinked, her brow furrowing as she tilted her head.

“And what?”

“There’s a monument to the Hero of Gorizont, Artyom Levovich Krasnov. H-he led an army to defend Gorizont from an Atlesian invasion during the Great War, and we have mausoleums dedicated to him in or near every city for those who can’t make the trip to his _actual_ mausoleum in Novstolitsa. But I don’t know why they’d want to go _there.”_

The gears began to turn in Pyrrha’s head. Ozpin said he had put the Relics in secure, safe locations. Was this mausoleum one of them? It made sense. If he had any allies here in Gorizont, then they could ensure the Relic was safe under the guise of paying their respects. But how had Roman and his allies come to this conclusion? There wasn’t much other choice here – they had to take this information to Ozpin. He’d know what to do.

Right?

* * *

If it was even possible, the air was colder than Pyrrha had ever experienced. Visibility was at near-zero, and the wind howled around them as they headed to the mausoleum. Even Zoya seemed to be affected by the cold, as she tugged at her long coat and constantly shuffled between shoving her gloved hands in her pockets, and rubbing them together for warmth. The snow stuck to practically everything, from Pyrrha’s tunic to Ruby’s boots. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it was like for the old armies of the Great War to fight against one another, marching through the snow to an uncertain opposition with the fate of the entire world at stake.

They approached a wrought iron fence, a massive ornate gate providing entrance to the mausoleum grounds. Coarse sand-colored rocks bound together by mortar stood a base for the twisting black fence and twin pillars that the gate hung from, an arch denoting who the mausoleum was for over the top, “Artyom Levovich Krasnov” written in a grandiose font where each land and valley was covered by a tiny mound of snow. Zoya took the lead in opening the gate, a horrible screeching noise emanating from it as she dared to push it. Pyrrha could feel herself cringe – anyone in a two mile radius had to have heard that. Any sort of idea of stealth was destroyed. She didn’t even breathe, afraid that just moving her muscles would betray her position. Was that noise the rustling of a hidden foe in a bush, or just the wind? Was she imagining the crunching of snow behind her, the telltale signal of someone sneaking up behind them, or was the threat all too real? In the end, it didn’t matter. Their mission had to happen and it had to be today. No other outcome was acceptable.

As they stepped inside the hallowed grounds of a fallen hero, an air of caution, fear, and anxiety fell over them. Yang glanced at every approaching corner and angle. Blake continually shuffled Gambol Shroud between her hands. Zoya was chanting something under her breath. For Pyrrha, it felt like she had ascended to Mistral’s highest mountain, a tightness in her chest stronger than anything she had experienced before in her life. Zoya motioned for them to turn right, and the cobblestone walls soon turned to an open area, where someone with their back to them stood in front of the mausoleum, a hood covering their head and any other identifying features obscured.

Pyrrha found herself stopping first, though truthfully it could have been any one of them. The wind continued to howl, throwing hair into faces and brushing aside loose coat flaps as the snow’s fall began to subside. As visibility began to return to normal, Pyrrha spotted a chestnut-colored stock resting against the ground, flanked by stark black boots. Snow began to crunch as the unknown person turned around, her hood sliding off as she took a hand to her face. The skull and crossbones was unmistakable. Suka had elected to meet them here.

“Oh, I see you have made some friends,” she said, snapping her rifle into her hands. “Hello, Miss Schnee, Faunus girl. And Zoya Ivanovna! What a surprise! I thought I told you I would _fucking murder you_ if you tried to stop me!”

“We don’t have to fight, Albina Fominchina,” Zoya said, her words echoing across the indifferent mausoleum walls and gravestones.

A cruel, mocking smile crossed Suka’s face, and her shoulders heaved as she laughed. When most people laughed, there was at least a hint of levity or joy to it, even if that chortle was the product of sheer disbelief or befuddlement. There was always _something_ to ground it back to humor in some way or fashion.

When Suka laughed, it was as if she was reaching out and clawing at Pyrrha’s very soul. Her cackling had a disturbing ring to it that almost made Pyrrha think that she was half-Grimm, a creature born out of pure darkness and hatred who only intended to destroy and kill.

“You are right, Zoya Ivanovna. We don’t _have_ to fight,” Suka said, transforming her weapon into a massive warhammer. She readjusted its weight in her hands, the steel shaft slapping down on her open palm. “We _must_ fight.”

The sound of boots in the snow caused Pyrrha to react, raising her rifle and aiming to the right. She heard the sound of Blake, Yang and Ren preparing their weapons as well, and around the mausoleum’s corner came Roman Torchwick, alongside a diminutive girl with pink hair that had a brown highlight on one half. Pyrrha knew this – it was Licorice Grates, one of the people who had attacked Beacon. Roman mockingly clapped, while Licorice twirled her parasol, a smirk firmly planted on her face. “How quaint,” Roman said, looking down on them. “The whole gang’s here to die.”

“We’re _not_ letting you get away with this,” Ruby declared, her words punctuated by the sound of her working Crescent Rose’s bolt.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a third voice said. Cinder and her team – Emerald and Mercury – came from the opposite corner, a will-o’-the-wisp floating in her hand. She had changed since Pyrrha last saw her. Her left eye was covered by her hair, scars crisscrossing her face, but underneath her black locks Pyrrha spotted some sort of metallic plate that would have covered her eye. A long fur stole was wrapped around her left shoulder; the other one left bare. She wore a crimson elbow-length glove on her arm, accented with an ornate gold trim that looked like musical notes to Pyrrha. Blackened fingers crept out from the opposite sleeve, but whether it was another glove or something more sinister, Pyrrha couldn’t tell.

“Salem is deceiving you all,” Ozpin said, speaking through Oscar. “There is no need for violence here today. If we join, we can destroy her corrupt will once and for all!”

“You’re a delusional child under the spell of a mystic,” Cinder retorted. “I think we all know that there’s only one way this ends.”

An ominous wind blew across the predestined battlefield. Even though her thick wool, Pyrrha shivered. Between the cocky smiles on Roman and Licorice’s faces, Suka’s deranged look, and the quiet confidence Cinder and her allies held, Pyrrha began to wonder if they could actually win this fight.

“We should kill them all,” Suka growled. “Feed their bones to the Grimm!”

“I like her spirit. We may as well,” Roman commented. “We already have friends in Atlas, right?”

Cinder nodded, smiling. “This was all a ruse, and an excellent one that Roman and his associates devised, if I must say so myself. Salem had informed me that Ozpin’s followers were easily tricked, but I have never seen someone fall so quickly for a trap.”

This proved to be the breaking point. With a shout that surprised Pyrrha, Yang leaped forward and began to attack, followed up just as quickly by Blake and Nora. In the blink of an eye, Pyrrha watched the two sides entangle themselves in a melee. Gunshots from large and small caliber weapons peppered the air as explosions rocked the sacred ground. Pyrrha immediately began pulling the trigger of her rifle, tracking Cinder and Emerald as they flanked wide. A resulting _ping_ told her she had run out of ammunition, with no hits for her effort.

Pyrrha muttered under her breath as she opened a pouch, shoving new Dust cartridges into the open bolt and slapping it closed. It was a comfortable routine for her – she had learned long ago not to keep her fingers anywhere near the bolt or its return follower when firing or reloading, unless she wanted to lose parts of her fingers. By the time she had raised her rifle’s sights up again, Emerald had closed the distance with her, forcing Pyrrha to change over to using her sword and shield. Cinder remained at a distance, lobbing deadly fireballs at anyone she deemed a threat. Emerald’s first series of blows bounced harmlessly off Pyrrha’s shield, an intentional move on Pyrrha’s part. She wanted to check Emerald’s flow, see how she liked to begin and end attacks. It’d make it easier to deflect her strikes with her Semblance.

Time to switch it up. Emerald came in again for another flurry of attacks, but Pyrrha focused herself and willed her opponent’s blades out of her way. Caught off-guard, Emerald opened herself up to attack, an opportunity Pyrrha took advantage of immediately. She thrust several short stabs at Emerald, following up with a kick to make space for herself.

“Neo!” someone called. “Go help her out!”

_Neo?_ Who was Neo? Emerald began to swing again, an attack that Pyrrha dodged and parried with ease, this time turning Emerald around so she could swing at her back. She watched her enemy stumble from the hit, and was about to follow up when someone delivered a sharp kick to Pyrrha’s side. Not expecting to get attacked, Pyrrha looked up to see who had joined in the fray. It was… Licorice? Wait, she must have been Neo, then. Was that another fake name, or had she always been Neo?

The parasol heading for her face didn’t give Pyrrha much time to contemplate on this. Licorice, Neo, whoever she was, Pyrrha had to contend with _her_ now. Emerald had seemingly broken off, leaving only Pyrrha and Neo in a careful dance of deadly consequences. Pyrrha swung hard and true, or so she thought, but every time she tried to make contact with Neo, the diminutive girl ducked and weaved out of the way. The confused shouts, cries of anger, and gunshots mixed together in the background as Pyrrha turned to studying this new foe.

Agility was the key to Neo’s combat strategy. Her reflexes were unparalleled, and even when she used what Pyrrha believed to be a restrained hit, the stinging was unmistakable. After some back and forth, which unfortunately for Pyrrha mostly resulted in getting hit with no answered replies, she decided to turn this back to her favor. Neo was about to come in with another stab at her. Pyrrha envisioned the blade swinging to her left, away from her arms and into empty air.

Instead, however, it pierced her tunic and drove itself straight into Pyrrha’s shoulder. She cried out involuntarily, as a satisfied smirk crossed Neo’s face. She withdrew the blade as Pyrrha watched her own vitae slip down the blood groove, and the muscle where she had been hit began to feel as if it was on fire. Almost as insult to injury, Cinder shoved Neo out of the way and loomed over Pyrrha, dramatically grabbing her by the throat with her left arm. Cinder’s sleeve and stole fell by the wayside as she lifted Pyrrha up into the air, staring at her with pure sadism in her eyes the entire way.

It was at that moment that Pyrrha realized Cinder’s arm was not gloved.

Her arm had become wispy, encircling her with a horrible energy that suffocated Pyrrha. Cinder did not need effort to lift Pyrrha up, because her arm was not as long as it should have been for any human. It had stretched out, bending at impossible angles to choke her, a trail of orange emanating from Cinder’s remaining eye. It was as if the fire inside Cinder was raging so intensely, it could not be contained by mere skin and bone. Pyrrha tried to grasp at the limb that was currently squeezing the life out of her, but her empty clawing resulted in nothing more than spreading the darkness even further. For all her will, Pyrrha could not maintain any sort of grip on Cinder’s arm, and so as her vision began to fade out, her hands fell uselessly at her side.

* * *

Ruby wasn’t sure where the lines had fallen. She knew that she and Mercury, along with Roman occasionally, had traded shots and blows. Yang and Blake were fighting, but she didn’t know who. Zoya and Suka were locked in what looked like a fight for their very lives. Qrow and Ozpin helped where they could, but it seemed like once one fight got handled, another one was nearly lost.

What she did know for certain was that Pyrrha was no longer breathing.

Almost like she had took a chair and sat down in the middle of the chaos, Ruby stood motionless. She stared at Cinder holding Pyrrha up, her black Grimm arm bent at an unnatural angle as she turned to throw her friend to the snow. Pyrrha’s lifeless body flopped uselessly, kicking up a smattering of snowflakes with it. Meanwhile, Cinder dramatically conjured a spear made of flame and magma, spinning it around in her hand with a flourish totally inappropriate for the setting. With a dramatic lift, Cinder raised the spear up and impaled it in Pyrrha’s chest. If her friend wasn’t dead before, then there remained little doubt in Ruby’s mind. She felt her eyes grow wide, a guttural, inhuman scream emanating from her throat as it all went white.


	23. Riot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Veliky Kursk begins to wrap up, but Salem and her allies are not the only threat Team RWBY faces.

Roman had shifted his focus from Ruby to Blake, forcing her to retreat. As she expected, Yang followed, and soon the two were matching hits with the bowler hat-wearing pompous clown. Gunshots and explosions echoed as they fought, occasionally interlaced with a quip from Roman. Apparently, Yang felt compelled to reply to each one, mostly by way of telling him to shut the fuck up. For Blake, however, there was a fire in her that could not be extinguished as she engaged with Roman. She had already fought him once, now it was time to do what she couldn’t back at the docks in Vale. She and Yang worked with an unspoken communication together, picking up slack when needed and utilizing harassing flank attacks when Roman focused on one of them. She had long lost count of how many magazines she had used in fighting him, but it was all going to be worth it.

Out of the blue, a low, long horn sounded, almost like a signal of some sort. Blake paused, furrowing her brow. In the corner of her eye, she could see Yang look around, equally confused. Roman stopped as well. What in the world was that? It sounded like someone was heading towards them, but who?

“Brothers and sister of the White Fang!” Adam Taurus shouted, leaping on top of a gravestone. He scowled, unsheathing his sword and pointing it forward dramatically. “Our enemies are before us! Destroy them without mercy, and you will be rewarded! Whoever gives me a head, fifty thousand Lien!”

A rousing shout emanated from behind Adam, and Blake realized what was going on almost immediately. The White Fang had joined in the attack. “What’s the matter,” Yang yelled at Roman. “Too scared to fight evenly, so you brought your White Fang buddies too?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, blondie,” Roman replied. “Why are these _animals_ here?”

No time to get into a discussion now. Blake elbowed Roman while he was distracted with the White Fang, clearing enough space for Yang and Blake to break off and regroup. Adam spotted them immediately, jumping off the gravestone as he approached them with lethal intent. Snarling, his grip on Wilt tightening with every step. “Blake, my love. I’ve searched long and hard for you.”

“_Fuck off,_” Blake growled back, feeling her teeth gnash. She hadn’t been nervous before, but she could not ignore the knot in her chest that seemed to be squeezing the very air out of her. Her voice was confident, yet Blake knew that Adam could detect the subtle unease in it. Could Yang hear it, or was she too distracted? Maybe she was more scared than Blake was, given what Adam had done to her the last time they met.

“So much fire,” he said, an even, unnaturally calm tone to his voice. She couldn’t see his eyes due to his mask, but Blake was sure he was analyzing them for any hint to their intentions. “First I’ll kill her. Then all of your other little friends. Maybe then, you’ll understand that I _mean it_ when I tell you not to trifle with me.”

Adam attacked first. He charged at them silently, sword drawn. Blake dodged left, spotting Yang juke to the right and out of the way. He pivoted quickly, though, coming in for another attack even as stray Dust shots from Roman’s cane landed near them. He just didn’t want to give up, did he? Blake started to run at Adam, dodging Roman’s fire as she began to close the distance with him. Yang was moving as well, lobbing explosives at Roman and linking up with her. They’d take Adam on – _together._ Nothing else would work.

With Gambol Shroud acting as a katana, Blake swung at Adam, but he blocked it easily with Wilt. Yang attempted to come up behind him, only to receive a swift kick to the gut that sent her into a nearby tombstone. More shots – must have been Roman deciding to focus on Yang for whatever obscure reason he had. That only left herself and Adam fighting against one another for now as gunshots echoed in the background. The White Fang must have brought guns to this fight instead of their usual melee weapon complements. Blake let out a heavy breath, readjusting her grip on Gambol Shroud as Adam circled around her like a hawk. His stone-faced expression betrayed nothing as to where he intended to strike next, or how. He merely sidestepped around her, his arm perpetually cocked to his side, fingers occasionally rising up for a second as if trying to work away energy.

Blake decided to take the initiative this time. She cut quickly, yet for each attack she tried Adam had an answer for it, whether it was just barely dodging out of the way or blocking her with his own blade. In response, his hits only grew in intensity as a result of his Semblance, until even just a relatively light blow felt like every part of her was aching at once. Their back and forth went on for some time, even when Blake tried to change it up and create distance. Nothing she tried worked – he had an answer for everything. She should have expected it, really – she had run with him for years; he had seen every trick up her sleeve and then some. Not even her Semblance traps worked on him. Adam had always seen right through her.

Adam struck her down with a cutting blow that tore through her clothes and sent her sprawling to the ground. Hot blood began to run over her chest as she barely lifted her head up enough to see that he had cut a wound straight across her torso, dangerously close to her heart. Adam stood over her, silently taking out a white cloth and running it along the edge of his blade. It turned a bright red when he drew it away, and for good measure he flicked off whatever blood remained. He sighed, looking out over the battle that continued to rage behind her. “It never had to end this way,” he said. If Blake didn’t know any better, she’d say he almost sounded regretful of how things had happened.

But Blake knew far better. She was not a scared, deluded little girl who believed all the propaganda she had been fed. She was a warrior, a woman who had learned and grown from her past mistakes. If only she had learned from past encounters with Adam, maybe then she could have killed him, instead of lying here helpless before him.

“If you had never left me, then I wouldn’t have had to look for you,” Adam explained, raising his sword in a clear attack stance. “And if I didn’t have to look for you, then I never would have been this angry. You _know_ what happens when I get _angry._”

“Go to hell,” Blake sputtered out. She tried to spit a glob of blood at him, but fell short. He regarded her indifferently, almost as if he expected her to be defiant until the very end.

Adam scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “Do you know what you are now, Blake? After all the pain and suffering you caused me? A _bitch._ You used to be a good girl, when we were together in the White Fang. Soon I will be High Khan, and the White Fang will all answer to me. You could have been by my side, but… well, you threw that chance away.”

As Adam’s blade rose higher, Blake felt herself sink into a pit of despair. She had failed. All Blake had ever wanted was to make sure that her friends and family were safe, but judging by the pained cries and moans from uncomfortably familiar voices, that wasn’t happening. Yang’s shouts could be heard practically from every continent, though Blake couldn’t tell if it meant she was winning or not.

“Say goodnight forever, my love,” Adam declared. Blake felt a tear roll down her face, eyes closing as she silently apologized to her friends and family. She hadn’t kept her word, and now she was going to die for it.

“_Get the fuck away from her!!_”

Blake opened her eyes to see Yang had somehow managed to tackle Adam to the ground, brutally punching him with everything in her as a fiery rage consumed her eyes. The abuse she laid into Adam was almost criminal, had he not been willing to lay that abuse upon others as well. Blake found rejuvenated strength, rising up with Gambol Shroud in hand to help Blake out as best she could given her condition.

In an instant, though, Adam had shoved Yang off of her and swung wide with Wilt, forcing them to back off for a moment. Roman too joined in, but not to directly help them. He seemed more interested with making sure Adam and his White Fang lackeys wouldn’t interfere with Cinder’s mission. Another mass melee ensued with Adam fending off attacks from herself and Yang as well as Roman. Roman, meanwhile, deftly switched from offense to defense almost at the drop of a hat, while Blake and Yang took turns in picking their targets. If it had been evenly matched when it was just Blake and Adam fighting, now it was truly at a standstill as Auras began to whittle away, chipped off with each attack that was expertly blocked and parried.

The sound of a heavy diesel engine roared through the air, followed up by the sound of groaning metal that began to snap, mixing with crumbling mortar and rocks falling on top of each other. The engine’s dull rumble grew closer, and from somewhere else Zoya shouted “Oh fuck, it’s the Perebezhchik Organization! Run!” The Organization’s crimson-painted vehicles rolled through, knocking down gravestones and cobblestone walls with equal indifference. Men with stark white uniforms rolled out of the side of the vehicles as they marauded through the mausoleum grounds, their massive tires throwing chunks of snow and grass everywhere. Through the dust and smoke, Blake could see the men, most armed with some kind of rifle, performing various rolls to avoid the tires and conceal their movement. Their eyes were hard-set, nearly unblinking even in the face of several armed Huntsmen and dangerous criminal elements. The White Fang immediately turned their guns on the Perebezhchik Organization soldiers, confused tactical callouts flooding the air with panicked shouts from Zoya and Suka both.

“_This is the Perebezhchik Organization!_” came a voice from one of the vehicles, fitted with a loudspeaker. Machine gun fire began to echo as one of them opened up on them, sending bullets sailing into Roman as his blood bounced off the snow. “_All of you are under arrest for subversive activities! Do not resist or you will be shot!_” Blake sprinted away, taking cover behind a heavy wall that offered at least some protection from the bullets as rifle fire – both enemy and friendly – was exchanged all around her. Adam called a retreat, and even as cries of anguished pain flew out, it seemed at least one side had broken off for now.

“Blake!” Yang yelled, calling from a series of tall tombstones that was quickly being torn apart by the machine gun. “What do we do?”

“Where’s Ruby?!”

“I thought you knew!”

Blake stared back at Yang, furrowing her brow. “How the fuck would _I_ know?!”

“Well, how do you expect _me_ to know?!”

Their conversation was cut short as a Perebezhchik soldier rounded the corner, raising his rifle to start shooting Blake. Before he could comprehend it, Blake had pushed his rifle down and away from her, punching him in the face and sweeping him off his feet. Someone with a rough, gravelly voice started shouting, followed up by boots stomping in the snow. Guess her hiding place was discovered. Blake and Yang opted to just run, hoping that whatever direction they went in, there was at least _somebody_ friendly there. They dodged perpetual machine gun and rifle fire in their mad dash out, leaping over and under obstacles as pursuing Perebezhchik Organization soldiers shouted and sent bullets their way, the heat of burning Dust almost scorching her as they whizzed past.

They spotted Qrow, who gestured to them to follow him. Intruding soldiers and White Fang stragglers were unceremoniously thrown out of the way by his scythe as the Organization’s armored vehicles continued to pound markers and walls into rubble, almost like beasts of burden hunting them down. Qrow led them through the chaos to where Ren, Weiss and Oscar had hunkered down, with an unmoving Pyrrha and Ruby in between them. Zoya clutched her side and arm, her face bloody and bruised. Nora had a pronounced limp and a look of pain fixed on her face.

“Are we getting out of this alive?” Yang asked, looking at her wounded friends and family.

“Yeah,” Qrow muttered. “Look, we’re out of here. Ozpin says the Relic isn’t here, so we’re breaking off for another day. These Perebezhchik guys are busy looking for Cinder and her little gang of misfits and freaks, so we should be able to make it out easily. We _run,_ all the way to the coast. Got it?”

“What happens when we got to the coast?” Blake asked.

Qrow sighed, his eyebrows jumping up for a second. “We hope that the contacts I’ve got left are still good.”

With a resolute nod, they gathered up their wounded and began to move as fast as they possibly could. Zoya cautioned them to stay away from the roaring engines – even with less than spectacular vision ports, their vehicles almost always had some soldiers nearby that were sure to start shooting. The sun began to set, and snow started falling once more as they headed to the coast. Through pine-covered forests with an occasional break in the trees, they headed to a half-frozen marsh that impeded their progress. Icy mud sucked their legs and feet in as they tried to make their way through, freezing them if they weren’t already on their way to frostbite. The trees and marsh broke to the coast, where cold waves lapped against the shore. Blake looked out to the ocean, and saw nothing. Just the light of Remnant’s broken moon shimmering against the eerily calm water.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Nora muttered. “What do we do? Nobody’s here!”

“Calm down,” Qrow said. “We’ll find a way out.”

Zoya cleared her throat, grunting in pain. “We can head back to Veliky Kursk. I have friends that can get us out on a merchant ship, but we need to be quick about it.”

“Okay,” Ren said, nodding. “We can head back to the house and get-”

“No, that’s impossible,” Zoya said. “We go back to that house, we’re _dead._ Look, don’t you see? The Perebezhchik Organization is looking for us. They probably have an entire platoon at that house right now.”

Blake turned her head to Veliky Kursk. Spotlights shot up into the night sky, alongside gunshots and the distant rumble of the same diesel engines she had heard in the mausoleum. Someone was on a loudspeaker, but the words were so distorted and garbled at this distance that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. It looked like the entire city was on lockdown. “How are we supposed to get through _that?_” Blake asked.

“I have my ways,” Zoya replied, heading off towards the city. “Come on, we need to go before they catch up with us.”

Slowly, they began to follow. With the casualties they had taken, Blake began to wonder if they’d ever make it out of Gorizont alive. Blake had never much been an optimistic person before, but right now? Their chances were looking pretty slim.

* * *

They kept as low a profile as they possibly could, when carrying two unconscious people and limping like they were. Zoya took the lead in guiding them through the city, warily crossing streets and peeking around corners with anxiety in every step she took. With each block they went down, they avoided roving patrols of not just the Organization’s soldiers, but the _militsiya_ as well. Their squads lined up and kicked down doors, charging in to the sound of gunfire and shrill screams that echoed in Blake’s mind. Their vehicles continually passed by them, occasionally pausing for reasons unknown to them. More than once, Blake thought that it had discovered them, and it would turn its turret to their position to rake them with bullets, leaving them bleeding out and alone in the alleys and side streets they had taken refuge in.

The massive wheels driving on the cobblestone almost gave Blake panic attacks at this point. Screaming people and gunfire reminded her far too much of life in Menagerie. Was that blood in the air, or was something else causing that iron smell to hit her nose? She found herself keeping close to Yang, practically wrapping herself around her arm to make sure she’d never lose track of her. When they hid behind walls, listening to the heavy boots of the Organization and _militsiya_ stomp past them, Blake worried her very thoughts would alert them. But, Zoya was an expert, leading them through the city with only a few close calls to her name. By day, Blake remembered Veliky Kursk feeling on edge despite its beauty. At night, however? It felt like there was danger around every corner. She half-expected a squad of soldiers to swoop down on them at any moment, encircling them and opening fire with reckless abandon.

Her fears were only partially alleviated when they reached the docks. When they first arrived, Blake had seen how happy and joyful the people were, even with the oppressive police everywhere. Once the lights when off and the moon rose, however, the menacing silhouettes of the Organization’s vehicles and constant patrols only added fuel to her anxiety’s fire. She looked out at the port, watching the _militsiya_ and Organization patrol the area. One of their vehicles stood at the main entrance, its headlights casting shadows and bright lights in a narrow arc in front of it as someone manned the gun, the turret grinding against the metal roof as it turned and tracked potential targets.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Ren asked, crouching low in between Zoya and Blake.

Zoya took a few minutes to watch the police and soldiers move, her eyes darting in between the groups with a speed Blake had never seen out of anyone. “Okay,” Zoya muttered, shifting her weight around. “Qrow Branwen, can you start a small fire over there?”

“What for?”

“They’ll investigate the fire,” she explained. “That distraction should let us get to the boat.”

Blake sighed, shaking her head as she watched patrols pass the closed shops and stalls. “How can we guarantee there’s even a boat for us? Who’s going to drive it?”

“Just -” Zoya groaned, slamming her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. She balled her fist up, before slowly releasing it, opening her eyes again. “Let _me_ worry about that, alright? When they start moving, we need to _go._”

Qrow had already left to start the fire, his methods to do it unknown to Blake. All she could do was wait and try to ignore the stinging sensation that had enveloped the wound on her chest. _God,_ all she wanted to do was scratch the hell out of it. Anything to take her mind off of potential death in front of them. Another patrol began to walk near them, headed by a woman in an uncomfortably familiar skirt. She didn’t wear a sidecap like the other women, though – her head was topped by some sort of fur hat that wrapped around the side of her head. “What the…” the woman muttered. “Hey! Fire! _Fire!”_

Just as quickly as they had arrived, they ran off. Other patrols stopped dead in their tracks, switching gears to save a shop Qrow had set ablaze. Blake watched the machine gunner jump off the vehicle, shouting something as he grabbed buckets. Time for them to move. Blake took a turn in carrying Ruby for a while, following Zoya and Ren as they headed for a boat. How _did_ Zoya know which one to go for, anyway? It didn’t make much sense to her, but she couldn’t spend much time contemplating it. They piled into the boat, with Qrow and Oscar the last ones on. Zoya struggled to start it, just in time for the Organization and police to figure out what had happened. Blake could hear them shouting to reorganize themselves to take out the boat.

With a sputter, the boat’s engine came to life, and they peeled out of the harbor as bullets began to fly their way, falling short as the distance between their attackers and the boat grew. Veliky Kursk’s lights and searchlights began to grow smaller, and for probably the first time in a month, Blake found herself breathing a sigh of relief. “So,” she said, turning back to her friends and family. “What now?”

“Who in da _fuck_ -” someone yelled, accompanied by the sound of something underneath the boat’s deck falling over and crashing. A door near the ship’s stern flung open, revealing a guy in a blue button sweater, worn over a cream colored collared shirt. His dark brown quiff bounced around, patted down by a one-eared headset on his left side as he furrowed his brow, staring at them. “Who the fuck are _you_ people?! What’re ya doin’ on my boat?!”

Zoya headed towards him, starting to limp now. “Roy, it’s okay,” she said. “They’re friends of mine.”

Roy looked at Zoya, his confusion only growing if the rapid blinking and slack-jawed look on his face was any indication. “Zoya? What in the… don’t fuckin’ tell me all that shooting was because of you guys, because if it was then… then… I dunno, but it won’t be good!”

“We had to run from the Perebezhchik Organization,” she explained. “I’m sorry, I should have called you, but my Scroll broke when I was fighting and-”

“You’re in fucking trouble with _those_ guys?!” Roy shouted. He sighed, holding his hands on his head, pacing back and forth “Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no no no. What the _fuck,_ Zoya? What the actual _fuck_ were you thinking?!”

“I had no choice!” Zoya shouted back. “You would have done the same if Albina Fominchina had killed _your_ friends!”

“I’m startin’ to _regret_ ever being your friend!” Roy exclaimed, throwing his hands wide. “I mean, look at them! _Look at them!_ They look like they ran through traffic! A-and what, are these two _dead?!_ Everyone who’s ever been your friend has _died,_ Zoya, and I’m not gonna be one of them!”

“Unless you got another boat, kid, you’re stuck with us.” Qrow said, taking a drink from his flask.

Roy pointed a finger at Qrow, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, listen fuckface, I didn’t ask for this, and I ain’t no kid, got it? You people just jumped on my boat and take off with those freaks on your tails, well, I’m gonna turn right the hell around and go back to Veliky Kursk!”

“You want to go back to the people who were shooting at us,” Blake said, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms. “In the same boat they saw us leave in, and you expect they’ll just… what, let you go?”

A blank look crossed Roy’s face. His finger, once stiff and accusatory, slowly crept down as the rage in his face began to deflate. “Uh… okay, look, point is, you people are on _my fucking boat!_”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Yang challenged.

Roy pursed his lips, staring at them. His eyes were wide, darting in between them as he looked at their stern faces and readied weapons, before sighing heavily with his arms limp. “Ugh, _fine,_ but after you guys get to wherever the hell you wanna go? I’m _done,_ got it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Qrow said, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Oz, we gotta figure out where they kept the Relic so we can find it.”

“Well, actually, I have it right here,” Oscar said, producing said Relic from his waist. Blake hadn’t noticed it until now, but he had a small lamp hanging from his belt the entire time. As he unhooked it from his belt, it doubled in size until it seemingly felt comfortable with itself, hanging from his clenched fist with some clear weight to it and yet not too heavy at the same time.

“That’s the Relic of Knowledge?” Blake asked, blinking. “When did you get it?”

Oscar’s eyes flashed, signaling that Ozpin had now taken over. The boyish attitude was now gone, replaced by a silent confidence immediately. “Cinder held it on her person. When Ruby killed her with her silver eyes, she dropped it and I was able to slip in and take it with ease.”

“Uh,” Roy said, raising a hand as all eyes turned to him. “Should… should I be here for dis? Cause I ain’t smuggling no ancient relics, alright, I only move like, really cool shit you can’t get in Gorizont.”

“We’ll deal with it later,” Qrow said, sighing as he turned back to Ozpin. “Alright, well, one thing down. What’s the next step, Oz?”

“We should get back to Mistral first. When we’re back on solid ground – and far away from Gorizont and their Perebezhchik Organization – then we can discuss our next step.”

Roy laughed, taking a few steps forward as he stepped forward. “You wanna go to Mistral, dude? Alright, yeah, I can swing that, but you gotta help _me_ out, get it? You know, since you’re taking my boat and all.”

Ozpin and Qrow shared a glance, before Qrow drew his scythe and held the tip of the blade to Roy’s neck. Zoya jumped up, as much as she could with her wounds, groaning against the pain as Roy let out a shrill, girlish scream. “Please don’t kill my… _friend,_” Zoya said, sighing. “He means well, _right, Roy?_”

“Y-yeah! Real right! Uh, I was kidding, y’know? Uh, I’m gonna leave you guys alone, yeah? That seems like a good idea.”

Roy soon escaped through the door that lead underneath his boat, to which Zoya sighed with a weary, resigned look on her face. “I’ll go talk to him,” she muttered.

Their boat rocked quietly in the night, its engine puttering as they rolled along the ocean. Blake looked out to the stars, wondering if there was ever a way up. Sure, they had the Relic of Knowledge in hand now, but where were they supposed to go to get the rest of them? Could they trust this Roy guy? She found herself collapsing against the side of the boat, completely exhausted from the day’s combat. She’d been running on 11 all day, and it was finally catching up to her. Her eyes began to feel heavy, and quite unwillingly, Blake found herself falling asleep as quiet, hushed conversations went on around her. Sleeping would be good, she convinced herself. At least then she could forget about her problems for a while.


	24. Argus Limited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After resting and reorganizing, the gang decides on a new course of action.

The good news was that Pyrrha and Ruby were not dead. They were alive and well, even if Pyrrha had to spend the better part of the week in the hospital – again – to recover from her wounds. Looking back, the results of that battle were actually fairly good. They had killed Cinder, removing her as a threat to them. Roman had been killed by the Organization, and they suspected Neo, or Licorice, whatever her true name was, wouldn’t deign to stick around. Zoya reported that she had wounded Suka decently, though it was in exchange for serious wounds of her own. Adam’s arrival was unexpected, but he hadn’t seriously wounded any of them or taken any limbs, and that was almost worth it on its own.

And, of course, they now had the Relic of Knowledge in hand.

Once Pyrrha had gotten out of the hospital and after bringing Roy up to speed, Ozpin and Qrow gathered them around, the intent to explain exactly what the Relic of Knowledge offered and why Salem would want it.

“I am sure you are all curious,” Ozpin announced, having already swapped ‘control’ with Oscar. He placed the Relic on the table, where it grew to an appropriate size. Not too big, but not too small, either. Pyrrha wondered if it was the same weight, or if that fluctuated as well. “This is indeed the Relic of Knowledge. This Relic has an immensely strategic power. Every one hundred years, it can answer any three questions posed to it.”

“Wow…” Blake said, her eyes wide in surprise.

“That’s incredible,” Ren mused.

“Any three questions, huh?” Roy asked, his arms folded. He had one leg crossed over his knee, leaning back in his chair without a care in the world. “What, like, can I use this thing to tell me who’s gonna win the next big game?”

“Ooh! Can it tell me how to turn into a bird?!” Nora practically jumped out of her seat, smiling wide. “What about how to reincarnate into people? Or-or how about the secrets of the world!”

Ozpin laughed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid none of those are possible,” he said, placing the Relic back on his hip. “Not only can the Relic not tell you of the future, all the questions have been used this century.”

“If you ask me, sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Roy said, giving them a skeptical look. “Like, come on, do you guys seriously believe this? All this stuff about Salem the witch or whatever?”

Yang rolled her eyes, glaring at him. “If you don’t want to help, you can leave at any time. What’s _our_ next step?”

“We need to get to Atlas. The Relic of Creation is there, and we need it,” Qrow announced.

“Good luck with that,” Ren noted. “Atlas closed their borders after the fall of Beacon. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out.”

Pyrrha nodded. The news of Atlas’s border closing was controversial for months. It had disrupted trade, nearly killed the international Dust market, and each day the border was closed, Dust prices only went up. Trying to get into Atlas at this rate would almost be like trying to sneak through a Grimm den with bells attached to every possible place.

And yet, Pyrrha slowly came to a realization. When she glanced up, watching all eyes turn towards Weiss, that same realization hit all of them. Weiss had gotten out of Atlas, who’s to say she couldn’t get _into_ Atlas too?

“Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Weiss groaned. “I didn’t leave Atlas just to head right back!”

“You’re our best chance, kid,” Qrow said.

“I don’t think you appreciate the effort I went to in order to leave, or what sort of ramifications there are for _me_ if I go back. I left in the dead of night after a very heated argument with my father, who, _may I remind you,_ controls the same company that has its fingers in every part of Atlesian society.”

Ruby stood up, walking over to Weiss and standing in front of her. “Weiss, we have to. I know you don’t want to, but if we want to win this, we have to go to Atlas.”

The room fell silent as Weiss sighed, her shoulders drooping. It looked like a massive weight had just landed on her shoulders, and she wanted it off as soon as possible. Truth be told, Pyrrha understood where she was coming from. She could only imagine what Weiss had gone through to leave Atlas, and knowing that there was scarcely even a point to leaving must have been horrendous.

“Alright, if we _have_ to,” Weiss conceded. “I’m not a fan of it, though.”

* * *

Truth be told, Zoya couldn’t remember the last time she truly relaxed. When on Roy’s boat, she alternated between sleeping with War Bride at her side, to watching the doors for anyone who had even a glimpse of lethal intent. Her newly-found allies said they wanted to help her, save the world, but she had heard that lie too many times to believe it. She could see how the Schnee heiress looked down on her with a derision that could only exist from someone in as lofty a station as her, how her friends Blake and Yang protected her – and each other – with their lives. Likewise, Nora and Ren kept close to each other, both eyeing her suspiciously at all times. The adult, Qrow, was scarcely any better.

She didn’t like to dwell on the man with two souls. Thinking about it hurt her head, and that was the last thing Zoya needed right now.

The train station in Mistral City was like many she remembered being at in Gorizont. When she was a child, her parents had taken her to visit Novstolitsa to visit her grandparents, and to see Belograd where her aunts lived. Zoya missed those days, when the world was simple and she didn’t have to worry about war, fighting, and this talk of saving the universe. Granted, she had always thought of herself as a soldier first, human second. It was why she had named her weapon War Bride, after all. What better way to show that she was married to her work than to have it reflected in her weapon?

This place had too many people in it. They were uncoordinated, a confused throng of people without aim or purpose. A chinless prefect had gone Grimm on some poor sap, chastising him about overweight luggage. Someone was dancing on a box, apparently a bard trying to get money for tickets to Kuchinashi. A drunk that she nicknamed Red Bob had a shindig with the ivory host at the duty-free bar. Overwhelming conversations and announcements mixed over and over for her, and for a moment she considered just putting on some music and forgetting about the world for a while.

Next to her, though, Roy plopped down, smoking a cigarette despite the station’s ban on such an act indoors. “Yo, you good?” he asked, nodding his head as he looked over at her.

“I saw her again.”

He paused, looking around anxiously. “What, Suka? Whaddya mean?”

“When we were running away from the Organization that night, we had fought her. She and her new allies tried to kill us.”

Roy sighed, a long billowing trail of smoke flowing out of his mouth. “Shit. Was it because of all this Relic junk?”

“Yes.”

Zoya wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling right now. Was it rage? No, her soul wasn’t burning. It wasn’t anxiety. The people here had her on edge, but she didn’t want to fight or run. Fear, perhaps, mixed with a dash of heartache. It wasn’t _just_ seeing Albina Fominchina again, or who she had become. It was seeing Ruby Rose and her teammates, seeing the same happy smiles and stupid jokes she had always made with Misha and Koyla. She honestly thought that a year later and five hundred miles away, she would have been over it. Zoya thought that if nothing else, there wouldn’t be anything to remind her of it.

Roy draped an arm over her shoulder, involuntarily causing her to jump as he pulled her close, squeezing tight. “You’re okay now, got it? Even if these clowns ain’t nothing, you got me.”

Zoya couldn’t help but laugh softly, smiling and closing her eyes. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be my friend.”

The cigarette smoke surrounded her, bringing even more unwanted flashbacks to when she and Koyla had done this same ritual together after long, hard days in the field. Back then, the smoke mingled and became one with the smell of burning logs, a pleasant pine-like smell that seemed at odds with the noxious stench of his home-rolled cigarettes. Here, though, Roy’s smoke was combined with something vaguely rubber, and oddly dirty.

“I mean, the getting killed part? Yeah, I don’t wanna be your friend for _that._ But hey, you’re a pretty solid girl, Zoya. I’m just saying, any day of the week, you and I in a room away from-”

“I _am_ armed, you know.”

“Point taken.” Roy took the cigarette, now just a stub, out of his mouth and stomped it out. “Look, you get what I’m saying. We got each other. I know I was kind of a dick on the boat, but you guys were just running up on me without telling me anything. If you had talked to me before? I’d have been able to help you guys out.”

Zoya sighed, shaking her head as she opened her eyes once more to look at the mass of people in front of her. “I didn’t have time. You know how it is, sometimes you have to just… _do_ things. I couldn’t talk to anyone.”

“I know,” Roy said quietly. He squeezed her shoulder for a final time, moving her off of him and creating a vast distance between the two. “Alright, I don’t want them making stupid fucking jokes about us. I see ‘em coming.”

True to his word, they _were_ approaching. Ruby Rose and her sister Yang had large bags in their hands. She vaguely remembered hearing something about how Ruby’s birthday was coming up soon. Maybe this was part of it. Maybe she should have joined them for this – anything to forget about how terrible life had become. Ruby looked somewhat conflicted – sure, she was as happy as Zoya had come to know her, but there was a pain hidden behind her eyes. Zoya knew the look because she had seen that same face staring her back in the mirror too many times to count.

“What’d you get me?” Yang asked, smiling wide as she tried to peek in her sister’s bags.

“No peeking! Wait until we get to Argus!”

Roy stood up, stretching his back out as he approached. “So, yeah, this train is gonna take us all the way there, huh? Cool.”

“Yup, all the way,” Qrow said, walking towards them with his usual surly attitude. “Should be a two-day trip, even with the high-speed rail.”

“We… we’re not going to stay in Argus long, are we?” Pyrrha asked, unusually nervous.

Nora patted her friend on the shoulder, offering a gentle smile as well. “We shouldn’t be. Just need to get to the Atlesian base, right?”

“Yeah. That base has airships that go straight to Atlas. I’m sure they’d like to see Weiss returned safe and sound after her sudden disappearance.”

Weiss rolled her eyes, groaning in clear disgust. “If they don’t shoot me on sight. I’m still saying we’re making a mistake heading to Atlas.”

“The Relic is there,” Zoya said, shrugging. “What other choice do we have?”

Ozpin nodded, beaming with pride. “Exactly right, Miss Zvaigzne,” he said. “This road is far from over. There is… another complication, however.”

“What’s that?” Blake asked, arching an eyebrow.

“With each reincarnation, my power weakens,” Ozpin said. “We… we should work quickly. Salem no doubt has designs to get to Atlas.”

A loudspeaker announced that Argus Limited, a special high-speed train that took no stops, was ready for passengers to board. Time to get her bag and head on. Maybe when she was on the train, she could finally put some music on and ignore reality for a while, let herself get lost in the music. That’d be a nice change of pace.

The conductor checked their tickets, thanking them for taking Argus Limited today for their trip. The cars each had a dark blue carpet lining the floor, off-white plastic covering the walls. Wood paneling detailed the more elegant passenger compartments that they were in, with red leather seats their comfort. Roy and Pyrrha had elected to split the cost of a sleeping compartment, allowed to store their things in a shared dorm with two opposing beds and a good view of the outside world. All in all, it was a nice train, better than what she remembered being on in Gorizont. Those had always been rough, uncushioned and feeling like they’d fall apart with each bump in the track. It was a small wonder she was even stepping on this train, to be honest.

And yet, Zoya couldn’t turn off the part of her that always took the worst out. She took note of each turret, the defensive layout of the compartments in case of Grimm or White Fang attack, and the panels that were interfaced with the guard’s Scrolls to provide up-to-date information about where the defense was, who was available, and who had been killed. Each window was thick, reinforced against bullet and Grimm alike, and the doors between cars had heavy quick-acting locks on them that she was familiar with from spending time with the Gorizont Coast Guard.

She sighed as she collapsed in the train’s seat, already exhausted even though there hadn’t been anything to really tire her. Maybe it was all the people. It looked like Ren, Nora and Pyrrha were sharing her car. They probably wouldn’t mind if she just zoned out to her music, ignoring them. After all, anything was better than trying to engage people she hardly knew in conversation.

Just as she had started playing her music, though, she barely heard the others start to talk. A question about why Pyrrha was so anxious about being in Argus. Pyrrha looked pensive. Zoya subtly slipped one of her earbuds out, looping it around her earlobe to hear better.

“It’s just… I don’t know,” Pyrrha said, rubbing her arm anxiously. “I haven’t been home in a long time. I don’t know if I can handle the fame again.”

“It’s been a long time, though,” Ren pointed out. “You’ve been away from the public eye since.”

Pyrrha shook her head, a defeated smile on her face. “You would think that would be enough. My mother told me about the tabloids there, how all of them are speculating on when I’ll return. I don’t want to prove one of them right.”

“You’re not,” Nora said. “Stopping by on the way to something else isn’t really _going home._”

“No, but not everyone sees it that way. I never much wanted to be famous, so… well, I guess this is the price I pay for it.”

“It’ll be fine, Pyrrha. If nothing else, we’ll make sure nobody harasses you, alright?”

Pyrrha smiled again, but this one was genuine. It seemed like she was actually happy to hear that. “Thank you, truly.”

Looked like their conversation was done. Nora and Ren started talking about something completely irrelevant, and Pyrrha retreated into her shell. Zoya put her earbud back in, closing herself off from the world for a while. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, and when she opened her eyes again, Ren and Nora were gone. It was still daytime, but Zoya couldn’t tell if ten minutes or three hours had passed.

Uneasily, she took out her earbuds, pausing her music as she checked her time on her Scroll. About forty five minutes. Well, at least she hadn’t missed much. Zoya sighed, letting her Scroll fall flat on her leg, sliding off to hit the seat. She didn’t like falling asleep in unknown places, especially when traveling. Zoya much preferred to make sure she saw as much of the journey as possible. It was something the Recon Troops had taught her in Gorizont, to ensure that if somehow she had been cut off from the unit, she could make her way back to base by herself.

“Have a good nap?” Pyrrha asked, looking up from her book with a warm smile on her face.

“Something like that,” Zoya replied. It seemed like just a second ago, she was listening to them talk about Argus. Something else was bothering Pyrrha, the more that she thought about it, though. Zoya couldn’t help but think about it. Hell, everything they did made her suspicious, and not just because she was afraid one of them would turn out to be another Albina Fominchina. Zoya looked out the window, watching snow-covered trees fly past them, blinding snow falling down so fast it was almost imperceptible. “Why don’t you _really_ want to go to Argus?”

Pyrrha blinked, her eyes wide. Must have caught her off-guard. “Uh… I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

“Come on,” Zoya said, giving her an exasperated look. “It’s not the tabloids. It’s not whatever fame you had. You are not a good liar, Pyrrha Nikos.”

Across from her, Pyrrha turned almost ashen white. It seemed she didn’t think anyone would ever call her out on her half-truths and evasive answers, but yet here Zoya was, piercing through what little armor she had left to strike right at her. Or so she thought – Zoya didn’t know what the fuck she was thinking. Maybe she had grown so cynical, so pessimistic, that even a white lie seemed like the most egregious sin in humanity.

Finally, Pyrrha began to speak, her voice low and weak. “Well… honestly, I never wanted to come back.”

Zoya stared back, shrugging. What did _that_ mean?

“I mean,” Pyrrha said, practically preempting Zoya’s question, “there were a lot of people I care about in Argus. But also… I don’t know. Going back to Argus is going to bring up a lot of bad memories for Ruby and… I guess I just don’t want to see her hurt is all.”

Zoya blinked. This answer made no sense. Did Pyrrha realize this, or was she trying to be evasive again? Couldn’t have been that – Pyrrha seemed dead serious about this. “So… are you trying to tell me you think of Ruby Rose as someone you care deeply about?”

Now it was Pyrrha’s turn to frown, furrowing her brow in confusion. “No, I… she’s like a little sister to me. Why?”

“Oh,” Zoya said, nodding and – quite honestly – sighing in relief. “I didn’t want to get in between any sort of love triangle thing. Thank God that’s not happening.”

“What?” Pyrrha’s face was deadpan, like she had never considered such a thing or believed it was possible. “What do you mean?”

Zoya scrunched her face up, shrugging again. “Well, you’re a beautiful woman, if you don’t mind my saying so – do you really think nobody’s ever had feelings for you?”

Once again, Pyrrha blinked blankly. She had a look of complete and utter confusion on her face that didn’t look like it was going away soon. “I mean… I _guess_, but… I always thought they thought that way because I was famous.”

“Wait, what are _you_ saying, then?”

Pyrrha shrugged, still giving her a bewildered stare. “I mean… I don’t know, I guess I just always knew people thought I was pretty, but I never really thought that about anyone else. Does that make sense? I don’t feel like it makes sense.”

“No, I’m tracking it,” Zoya said. “I… no, that makes sense. Okay then, I just thought you and your friends had something going on.”

Pyrrha shrugged, going back to her book. Zoya shook her head, resolving that she didn’t need to pry and decided to just go back to her music. Maybe she could go to sleep again, forget herself for a while. Even if she didn’t completely trust her new allies, maybe she could find some small comfort on this train.

* * *

She had fallen asleep again, awoken not by a gentle start, but by the sound of someone banging on the compartment door. Groggily, she pulled out her earbuds out to see Qrow Branwen standing at the door, his speech just a gas leak while Zoya tried to remember how to be a human again. But the words “Grimm attack” were clear as day, immediately jolting her out of her stupor and clearing her mind. Zoya was on her feet before she was even conscious of it, unslinging War Bride and pulling back the bolt to ensure a round was chambered. A dull green Dust cartridge greeted her, and the resulting heavy _clack_ of the bolt as she shoved it back into place reaffirmed that she was loaded. Muffled shots echoed above – the turrets she had seen earliest must have been in action.

Icy wind met her as she climbed up to start fighting on the roof. Team RWBY was already up here, taking shots against circling Grimm that dodged incoming rounds left and right. The smell of spent Dust cartridges filled the air, screeching Grimm irritating her ears as she ran across the roof to find a good position to set up in. This vent looked liked it was it. Zoya crouched down next to it, resting her elbow on top as she dialed in her sights to start fighting the Grimm. This was the sort of shot she had taken millions of times, and each squeeze of the trigger was a well-regimented ritual. Acquire target, regulate breathing, squeeze trigger, rack bolt, rinse and repeat. Even with her marksman skills, it was hard getting a shot on these Grimm.

Someone tapped her shoulder as she chambered another round, watching the spent casing fly out of her rifle. Zoya turned to see Roy was standing next to her, clutching what looked like a baseball bat in his hands. “Yo, what’s the play here? What do you want me to do?”

She blinked, staring at him. “Shoot the Grimm? What do you think you should do?”

“Uh, heh, yeah, I kinda can’t shoot with this thing, s’just a bat.”

“Why the fuck are you _just_ using a bat? What happened to your pistol?”

Roy shrugged, looking at the Grimm circling above. “Uh, I kinda lost it. Damn, there’s a lot of them, huh?”

“How do you _lose a gun?!”_ Zoya demanded, having abandoned shooting the Grimm entirely. She had never known Roy to be this stupid before, but hey, first time for everything apparently.

A larger Grimm, probably a Sphinx by the looks of it, roared with a deep reverberation that rattled her. It descended down to the train cars, shaking them as it reared its head back. RWBY immediately set to engaging it, and since Roy was busy screaming in her ear there was no other option available to Zoya beyond reengaging. She racked the bolt again, noting she was on her last shot. Zoya knelt down again, opening one of her beige ammo pouches and grabbing a handful of Dust cartridges. She pushed a round into the loading tube, forcing it to go through past the initial resistance of the loading gate and spring. Zoya had done this millions of times, but right now, hearing gunshots and Grimm screams around her, she found her hands refusing to cooperate with her. On a good day, she could get all eleven rounds into the tube in a minute flat, but in the chaos she was fumbling with each round. Half of them got stuck in the tube, forcing her to take them out and realign them, and more than once she dropped a round, watching it uselessly roll away to be lost forever.

Someone started shouting. Looked like a call to retreat. She and Roy scrambled down the same hatch they came out from, soon joined by Nora, Ren, Pyrrha and then Team RWBY. Qrow and Ozpin carried a wounded man with them, setting him down on a nearby seat. Zoya just now realized her shoulder was hurting like no tomorrow. How much had she been shooting?

“They just keep coming,” Nora complained. “What do we do?”

“I don’t get how they _found_ us,” Roy said, resting his bat on his shoulder. “Like, what kinda random-ass attack is this?”

“It’s more than just a random attack,” Ozpin announced. “They are also attracted to this.” He held the Relic up, a resigned look on his face.

“_What?!_” Yang shouted, her eyes turning red as she stomped over, fists clenched. “What _else_ are you hiding from us?!”

“You didn’t think that’d be helpful information?” Zoya asked, scarcely able to believe her ears.

“If the Grimm are attracted to the Relic,” Pyrrha said, working her way through the logic, “then it doesn’t matter where we go as long as we have that with us.”

Ruby sighed, shaking her head. “Just… _stop,_ all of you. We don’t have the luxury right now of arguing. The people here are at risk, so we need to help them. Ren, can you mask the people on this train while we fight the Grimm?”

He pensively sighed, and for the first time since she had met him, Zoya thought Ren looked completely unsure of himself. “Maybe? I’ve never done it with so many people before.”

“We have to risk it,” Ruby declared. “Okay, Ren, Nora, Pyrrha, Roy, you guys stay with the passengers and protect them. The rest of us… we’re killing that Sphinx.”

The two groups nodded sharply, breaking off. Roy and Zoya stuck behind for a second as the others said their temporary goodbyes. If nothing else, after separating the train they could catch up later. Zoya sighed heavily, her rifle feeling unusually heavy today.

“So, uh, guess I’m hanging with the misfit gang for a bit,” Roy muttered.

“You’ll be fine,” she said. Zoya paused, at the same time Roy did. They looked each other in the eyes, and without even thinking Zoya wrapped Roy in a strong hug. She didn’t know why, but Zoya felt like this was a pivotal moment in her life. Something – call it fate, a bad feeling, or a God whispering in her ear – was telling her that this may very well be the last time she had to do this. “Be careful, _please._”

“You first, Zoya.”

Tears in her eyes, she broke off and shoved her way past Roy, heading up top to engage the Grimm. The cold chilled her tears almost immediately, and soon the overwhelming fear, sadness and anxiety was replaced by a resolute determination. Zoya would not let more innocent people die. Team RWBY began a familiar ritual, pinning the Sphinx down with ribbons, glyphs, harassing shots from both herself and Qrow, and explosive attacks that disrupted it. Zoya lost track of the chaos as she kept other Grimm from interrupting the process.

What she could track, however, was Team RWBY as they engaged the Sphinx. They leaped, tumbled, dodged, attacked and counterattacked as they set about implementing their strategy. She was half-conscious of Team RWBY shouting things to one another, the tactical callouts she had come to expect from them. It felt like nothing they were doing was affecting it. Was there even a point to fighting this thing? Its massive claws swung at then, and the jaws got far too close for Yang’s comfort more than once. Zoya took aim and fired, but her shot just seemed like it pissed the thing off rather than anything else.

And yet, for all the combat and Dust expended, something still felt off. She watched the Sphinx rear back, working against the glyphs and ribbons until finally, it lurched forward a final time just as Ruby and Qrow began to descend upon it with their scythes open. It let out a fireball, which Zoya tracked as it flew over her head. She watched it fall in a lobbed arc ahead of them, until it hit the tracks. The same tracks that they needed to keep going, and were currently speeding over right now. She turned back to Ruby, watching the Sphinx’s head fall off and disappear. Her look of triumph soon faded when she saw what was happening ahead.

“_Hang on!_”


	25. Of Sins and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY reorganizes following the crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update week, mostly because I didn't feel like leaving one sort of filler chapter up. Obviously, this chapter is up early this week, and tomorrow's chapter would have been next week's and will come up on my usual update day.

On one hand, the crash could have gone a lot worse.

On the other, it could have gone a lot _better,_ too.

Weiss coughed, shoving snow off of herself as she plucked herself out of the embankment she had been thrown onto. Her gravity glyphs had helped some to keep them from being scattered, but she couldn’t have kept them all safe. Where had Zoya gone? Qrow? Even Ozpin’s status was in doubt. Wait, no, there was Qrow, he was calling out if they were all good, getting scattered responses from Blake and Yang. Weiss looked around, still brushing snow off of herself, but wasn’t able to find Ruby. Where was she?

“Great, just _great!_” Yang yelled, trying to lift Bumblebee out of the snow. “We _lost_ half our team, and _gained_ jack shit! Fuck!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Qrow said, taking a drink from his flask only to find it empty. “We’re gonna attract more Grimm if we’re like this.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s another thing!” Yang yelled, just as Ozpin appeared from the background. “When were you going to tell us that the Grimm follow the Relic?”

The man himself – or more accurately, the man hiding in the boy’s body – stood uneasily, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “That’s… yes, I did lie, but I didn’t want to.”

“Then why even lie in the first place?” Blake asked, furrowing her brow at him.

“Please,” he pleaded, holding his hands up. “Now is _not_ the time.”

Yang clenched her fists, the heat from her anger rising enough that Weiss could feel it even where she was. “No! We’re _past_ that! I want to know why you keep lying to us, why you won’t give us the whole truth!”

Ozpin sighed, shaking his head. “It is true that the Grimm are attracted to the Relics. It’s faint, but undeniable. I believe it has something to do with their origin, but I can’t be completely sure. Regardless, I felt that making you all aware would only add to the anxiety and negatively. It seemed like the safer option.”

“I’m getting tired of people choosing what’s best for me,” Weiss said, glaring at Ozpin as she crossed her arms.

Zoya joined in now, heading from behind a pile of luggage. “Don’t think I can’t hear you,” she said. “We’re supposed to be in this together, aren’t we? Don’t you trust us? Do you think we will turn our backs on you?”

“Do you honestly think Miss Fominchina was the first to be swayed by Salem’s words?” Ozpin asked, his voice rising. “Do you think people haven’t told me that they won’t turn their back on me, only to do so later on? I’m sorry, but you must understand my behaviors are backed by experience. Not to say that I believe you will have a reason to betray me, but I have _reasons for the things I do,_ the secrets I keep, the… wait, where _is_ the Relic?”

“Right here,” Ruby said, appearing from behind an overturned train car. In her hands she had the Relic, approaching with sad, downtrodden eyes and a frown on her face. “It… got scattered in the crash.”

Ozpin’s face washed over with relief, and he relaxed a little, holding out his hand. “Oh, thank goodness. Please, give it to me.”

“So… all those times you talked about having faith in humanity, was that the truth, or was it for everyone else?”

“That’s… not what I meant to suggest,” Ozpin said, sighing. “Miss Rose, the Relic is a powerful item, and I feel it’s my burden to bear. Not yours.”

“I don’t like that answer,” Zoya said, her fingers drumming over her rifle’s strap. “What do you mean?”

“You said it can’t do anything right now,” Blake said, narrowing her eyes.

Ruby shrugged, meanwhile, still clutching the Relic. “Why does it matter who carries it?”

“I need you to listen to me,” Ozpin said, stepping forward. However, mid-step, he froze with his arm outstretched. It seemed like he was fighting against himself. Weiss watched him blink, the very act looking like it was taking everything in him. He moved to speak again, but this time the voice was actually Oscar’s, and not Ozpin’s. “Hurry…”

They looked at one another, confused and anxious. Zoya had already unslung her rifle, holding it in her hands in a low ready position. Ruby still held the Relic, and Weiss was unconsciously wavering a hand over Myrtenaster.

“Hurry with what?” Zoya asked.

“He’s… trying to… stop you,” Oscar said, his voice strained and cracking.

“Stop her from doing what?”

“He’s… _afraid._ Afraid you’ll… find out what… he’s hiding.”

Suddenly, Oscar collapsed in the snow. Weiss found herself inching ever closer to Ruby, wary of what was happening. Ozpin had already lied to them once, twice, who knows how many times now. What if this was some kind of ruse? Slowly, Oscar’s head rose up again, and he stared at them with weary eyes. “Her name is Jinn. Say her name to summon her.”

“Her name?” Ruby asked, lifting the Relic up to be level with her face. She blinked, looking at the Relic as it lazily turned back and forth in her hands. It began to glow as the wind and snow picked up, whirling around them like a Vacuo performance arts troupe. “Jinn?”

The second the syllables escaped her lips, the snow stopped and even the wind itself paused. It wasn’t even like the weather had changed – Weiss could see the individual flakes suspended in mid-air in front of her face, and the trees around them looked like someone had taken a picture of the landscape and stretched it up on a canvas.

Apparently unintentionally, Ruby let go of the Relic. As if defying reality and every law of physics Weiss was aware of, the Relic floated out to the air, as cyan smoke surrounded it. Before she could even question it, the smoke overwhelmed the Relic as a giant semi-nude figure emerged from it. Her skin and hair was colored blue, with ornate golden jewelry and ornaments adorning her neck and wrists. She stretched herself out, moaning in pleasure as if she had just awoken from a long nap.

“Wonderful,” the spirit said. “I am Jinn, a being created by the God of Light to aid humanity in its pursuit of knowledge. I’ve been graced with the ability to answer three questions every one hundred years. You’re in luck, as I’m able to answer-”

“_**No!**_” Ozpin shouted, having regained control from Oscar.

Jinn arched an eyebrow, before turning back to them. “Two questions this era.”

This couldn’t be right. Weiss looked to her friends, seeing that they each had the same shocked expression. Even Qrow seemed distraught by this revelation. “Ruby,” Ozpin said. “Please… don’t.”

Qrow stepped forward, met by Weiss, Yang, Blake and Zoya immediately closing ranks around Ruby, protecting her with their lives. “Do… do whatever you think is right, kiddo,” Qrow weakly said, raising his hands and backing off.

Ruby, meanwhile, turned back towards Jinn, staring at the ground. “Jinn… what is Ozpin hiding from us?”

* * *

Jinn showed them everything.

They saw Salem, not as the corrupted, demented monstrosity as they knew her, but as a normal woman with a relatively normal life with perfectly human dreams and aspirations. They saw Ozpin, or more accurately his predecessor Ozma, a man with a sword in hand and only the liberation of those in need on his mind. They bore witness to the tragic story that should never have been – love born between Salem and Ozma, the promise of a future together and the cruelty of life itself taking away Ozma before Salem had ever prepared to see him go.

She did not take this well.

Salem pleaded to the Gods for mercy. At the God of Light’s sanctum, where life grew without pause, angelic choirs sang out to celebrate the vibrancy and color that was hosted here. She asked the God of Light to restore her beloved to her, but He denied her pleas. “Let him rest,” He declared. She offered everything and anything – her life, her immortal soul, any sort of power or influence she could garnish for Him. He rejected everything, for He did not seek power, fame, or bargained with humans for intangible things. He cast Salem away, declaring that life and death was a natural cycle, and He would not interfere with it.

Salem was not one to be dissuaded so easily.

The God of Darkness was not one to be trifled with. Any living human knew full well the sort of cosmic horrors that awaited them in His den, His followers condemned as living demons who only sought death and destruction. The monstrosities that were conjured up in His pits of despair and anger only knew murder, corruption and anguish. A man opposed to the God of Darkness often did not leave His den alive. If they did, their minds were shattered, wrought with waking nightmares and haunting visions that made them useless for anything other than to be left alone on a street corner, babbling incoherently about the invisible horrors.

Salem was far too determined to let a small thing like twisted horrors of the mind stop her.

She bowed before the God of Darkness, offering whatever she believed could please Him in order to get Ozma back. Like His brother, the God of Darkness did not desire the material objects and promises that Salem offered to Him. He was far more interested in the fact that this human had come to Him, seeking His help. Most humans, when they approached Him in His den, sought power for their own means. This woman was seeking His help for a fairly simple thing, truth be told.

He told Salem that He would be glad to help her, and thus with a mere flick of His wrist He resurrected Ozma. She, obviously enough, was overjoyed to see him. Ozma was rather confused about the whole situation, considering he had a minor case of death that suddenly seemed to have reversed itself. He only knew that he had died, and now he was in the den of the God of Darkness, and he was unsure what this meant. But to Salem, this was the best thing in the world.

However, the joy was short lived. The God of Light approached His brother’s den, and with a clear air of disdain, asked Him what He had done. The God of Darkness responded simply; “I did what you could not, brother.”

This perceived insubordination angered the God of Light. He struck Ozma down, removing him once more from the world. Incensed that His brother had dared to counter Him, had destroyed the one wish that a human who had come to _Him_ and pleaded to _Him_ instead of His brother, and now He expected to just exert His influence here? The God of Darkness ranted and raved, claiming that His brother’s arrogance knew no bounds. How dare He, the God said, to come in here and act as if having the human’s favor granted Him the ability to do whatever He pleased, whenever He pleased.

The God of Light explained the truth, however – the human Salem had deceived Him. She had sought out the God of Light’s aid first, and when He refused her cry for help and rejected the advice He gave her, she sought out the God of Darkness as a second resort. She had never been His, the God of Light argued, she had only sought Him out because she saw no other alternative.

“Then allow me to rectify my mistake,” the God of Darkness said, removing Ozma permanently from the world. The Gods cast her away, ordering her to let the past die. To teach her this lesson, force it upon her, the Gods gave her the curse of immortality. Salem would be forced to watch every single person she cared about grow old and die. She could not be killed by any mere mortal weapon, nor would she see an end to her suffering until she finally understood how to accept death in her life.

Salem did not intend to let this go quietly.

She spent years wandering, cursing the Gods and the cruelty they have levied upon her. When she did not take out her anger on the world around her, Salem tried to circumvent the God’s curse. She thrust herself upon swords, leaped off of great heights, drank poison on the daily, tied weights to herself to jump in lakes, and turned firearms against herself. Nothing worked. Every time she put herself through an agonizing parade of pain, she found her wounds healing themselves. To her great disappointment, she woke up every morning no worse for wear. Her curse had truly begun to torment Salem.

But over time, Salem began to ponder. Individually, she was weak against the Gods. And yet she saw disunity in the Gods that prevented them from working fully against humanity. Only when Salem dared to challenge them did they unite and use their full power. Humanity had the same sort of disunity she had seen in the Gods, therefore if she could unite humanity, then it stood to reason that humanity could defeat the Gods. If Salem could defeat the Gods, then she could take their power for her own, and finally she could have her beloved Ozma back.

Salem traveled the world, displaying her immortality to the kings and queens of Remnant. Her argument was simple – the Gods had shown cruel indifference by allowing warfare, injustice, and terror to rock Remnant. It was time for the era of the Gods to come to an end. By helping her, she posited, humanity could unite and overthrow the shackles the Gods had upon them and be truly free. The kings and queens pledged the armies to Salem, and with the entire world at her back, Salem marched on the God of Light’s home. Urns, ceremonial offerings, and other trinkets were stomped and smashed as the assembled army marauded to the Pool of Life from whence He rose, His arms folded as He looked down upon them.

“Such foolishness,” He said, shaking His mighty head. His brother, the God of Darkness, descended from the heavens, joining His brother’s side. “This woman has deceived you all, and for what? Promises she cannot achieve?”

“We are displeased, Salem of Antocourt,” the God of Darkness said. “It is clear to Us that you have not learned your lesson. You have refused to even think about changing your ways.”

With a clap of His hands, the God of Light sent a massive wave out. Salem looked out to see that the army she had assembled was now gone, only their crude weapons and armor remaining.

“You _monster!”_ Salem shouted, her eyes welling up with tears. “I hate you! You have done nothing but bring pain and suffering! What sort of Gods are you?!”

“Do you believe Us to be kind, gentle, benevolent Gods?” The God of Darkness asked, tilting His head to the side. “You are sorely mistaken, Salem of Antocourt. We are Divinity, We are not servants to your kind. We created you, and now We have removed you.”

“This planet was a good experiment,” the God of Light noted, looking around Him. “We will take these lessons to the next realm… but We will not take you. You shall roam Remnant, Salem of Antocourt, a testament to your kind’s hubris and arrogance. You will be alone for all eternity as a sentinel for the dead.”

With that, the Gods ascended to the heavens, unintentionally fracturing Remnant’s moon with it. Salem was truly alone.

What Salem did not know was that the Gods had other plans. They knew that one day, humanity would walk Remnant’s plains again. It was inevitable, truth be told. So, they resurrected Ozma once more, and told him that Salem had become a monster with no redeeming qualities. She had to be kept in check, lest she undid the future of Remnant. Naturally, Ozma questioned this – this didn’t sound like the Salem he knew, that he had fallen in love with.

The Gods only needed show him the results to convince him. They lied to Ozma, told him that she had been responsible for humanity’s extinction on Remnant, and thus gave him a mission. He was to ensure Salem would never be a threat to humanity, and he had to do it though any means necessary. To aid him in this mission, Ozma was given the power of reincarnation – each time he died, he would merge with another soul in the world, gaining their knowledge and experience while retaining what he had learned before. Ozma accepted his new mission with a grim determination.

Thus set the two on their eternal path of struggle. Ozma kept low, while Salem kept to herself as humanity returned. Long ago, before humans again walked the world, Salem believed that the Pit of Destruction, the main conjuring pool that the God of Darkness had used to form His demented nightmares, could be used to remove her curse. After all, she had gained immortality from the God of Light’s Pool of Life. Why couldn’t His brother’s pit do the opposite?

She was sorely mistaken. An immovable force met an unstoppable object, and the pain was so great she could scarcely stand it. When her body floated back up to the top, propelled by her own buoyancy, Salem had transformed. She was not the troubled, beautiful woman with a chip on her shoulder anymore. She had changed into a being with crimson veins that ran along her arms and circled her eyes, porcelain white skin, and eyes so dark the only thing that could be seen in them were her blood red irises. Her nails had become black, her hair drained of all color. What’s more, she found that she could conjure Grimm at will much like the God of Darkness had. Salem had truly become Queen of the Grimm.

The two remained unaware of each other for many years, but they always felt the other’s presence. It was as if some cosmic force was drawing them together, bringing them closer and closer to one another like two planets in orbit. Eventually, Ozma risked himself and sought Salem out, and it was as if the two had never left one another. Neither one looked like the other had remembered, but they knew immediately when their hearts fluttered upon sight. They talked long, about what they had done, but kept themselves reserved. Salem refused to speak of the immortality she had been granted, and Ozma kept his mission assigned to him by the Gods a closely guarded secret.

They decided to remarry, to serve the world as new gods. They had powers beyond compare, why not? Salem saw a chance to do what she had always sought out in the first place, while Ozma wondered if this was truly his purpose in life. They had a family, created a kingdom, established peace.

However, it all came crashing down far too quickly.

When their family had grown to their teenage years, Ozma and Salem had an argument. Ozma had become conscientious of his mission once more, and believed that his marriage to Salem and acting as a God-Emperor went against it. He confessed his sins to Salem, and she listened quietly and respectfully. When he finished, and he explained the true intent of his mission and his powers to her, Salem’s response was anything but.

She flew into a rage, accused him of usurping her for his own gain, of aligning himself with Gods who cared not for them or anyone other than themselves, and vowed she would rather kill him – over and over and over and over and over again, if need be – to make sure that she would never be told what to do again. Ozma ran, but he was struck down in front of the only family he had.

Thus began a long cycle that had continued to the present day. Ozma died, was reborn, and alternated between returning to his mission immediately, or hoping to ignore it. He lived so many lives they scarcely could be counted. He tried countless strategies to stop Salem, but it felt like nothing worked. When the existence of the Relics was made known to them, his tactics changed. He made sure he could keep the Relics close at hand, or at least in places he could always reach.

Which, incidentally, is what led him to the crimes that may have just doomed his latest allies. In a bid to keep Salem from advancing too fast, he had devised an evil, evil plan. Qrow and Raven Branwen were the perfect candidates – antisocial, hated by the world, and hiding who they were. He brought team STRQ into the fold, and when Qrow and Raven trusted him enough, Ozpin made his proposal.

Qrow Branwen stood in front of the Relic of Creation, resting his chin on his hand. “So, it’s that simple, huh?” he asked. “Just… tap me with this and it’s all changed?”

“Well… I’m afraid it’s a bit more traumatic than that,” Ozpin said, sighing heavily. “This… _procedure_, shall we say, will completely wipe your memory. I’ll… have to create new ones to replace them.”

“But it’s worth it, right? To stop Salem?”

Ozpin nodded solemnly. “It’s important I have your blessing _now._ When this is done, you won’t remember this conversation. It’ll be as if it never happened.”

“And you’ll change Raven’s too, right? To keep with the plan?”

“Yes,” Ozpin said, nodding. “You will act as an informant, working in Salem’s camp. You will believe that you have always hated me, and that Salem can save humanity. But your sister has turned you, and you feed her information through the use of your new powers to turn into birds and her new portal Semblance. Her progress will be kept in check by your own natural bad luck.”

Qrow sat here, staring at the Relic as he contemplated this. He had a lot to worry about – every good memory he ever had would be gone, as if it never existed. It was a lot to ask of anyone. “I’ll do it,” he said.

Ozpin smiled, tapping away almost immediately. It was a good plan, if horrifying for its use of human pawns.

Like all good plans, though, there was a problem when it was implemented.

Rather than believe Salem was humanity’s savior, Qrow rejected her dichotomy and kept close to Ozpin. Raven remained fully aware of the changes, not that Ozpin had ever intended to remove her memories. She had once believed it was necessary, but when she saw how far Ozpin was willing to go to stop Salem, she was horrified. It sickened Raven that this man had the power to change a person’s Semblance at will, and she wondered how many others he “changed” in order to suit his needs. With his plan ruined, Ozpin merely picked up the pieces and continued on as if nothing had happened, subtly changing the memories of Qrow’s closest friends until they scarcely remembered there ever being a change between the old and new. If only he had gotten the chance to change Raven Branwen.

Ozpin had grown desperate. He sought Jinn’s help, summoned her one day when the new era rolled over. He knelt before her, weak and broken. His question was simple - “How do I destroy Salem?”

The answer was not to his liking, though it too was simple. “You can’t.”


	26. Dread in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY struggles to come to terms with their new knowledge.

“What does that mean?” Zoya asked, inching ever close to Ozpin with her bayonet pointed at him. “_What does that mean?!_”

“I think it means exactly what it means,” Blake said, her voice shaky. She felt a tightness overwhelm her chest, slowly lowering Gambol Shroud. “Salem can’t be killed. We can’t destroy her. What are we supposed to _do?_”

All eyes turned to Qrow. He sighed heavily, his eyes darting in between two invisible points in front of him. Blake thought he looked completely broken, as if his very soul had been shattered and left in the dust. Who could blame him? Out of everyone here, Ozpin had lied to him the most. He had been led to believe that his Semblance was normal. Now… now he had to face the truth that Ozpin had forcibly changed it in his plans to stop Salem.

“I… I can explain,” Ozpin said weakly. “Please, just -”

In the blink of an eye, Qrow had marched up to Ozpin and punched him, sending him careening into the snow once more. “I should _never_ have trusted you! You took away _everything_ from me!”

“You saw how it was,” Ozpin argued. “You gave me your consent.”

“_I never would have done it if I knew this is what would happen!_”

Qrow’s outburst echoed through the snow-covered clearing, bouncing off trees and fading to nothing as it disappeared into the falling snow. They stood there, barely moving. Would Qrow continue his assault? Or did Ozpin have something to reveal? Qrow apparently had gotten tired of just waiting, and lifted the man up, bringing him up to his face.

“What’s your plan to defeat Salem?” Qrow demanded.

“I don’t have one,” Ozpin admitted.

Blake felt her heart sink to the lowest possible point it could have ever reached. She had been following Ozpin for all this time, listened to him spin grand tales about their goals and missions, and now… they were just playing it blind this entire time? Ozpin had been making up every single thing he did along the way? What kind of a leader _was_ this?

“If… then… what do-”

“_Our_ mission doesn’t change,” Ruby declared, shaking her head and getting a resolute look on her face. “We got on that train to get to Atlas to recover the Relic. That’s what we’re going to do.”

Qrow groaned, throwing Ozpin back on the ground. “You don’t get it, kid! We have _nothing!_ We can’t defeat someone who can’t be killed! You heard Jinn, right? We can’t defeat her!”

“No!” Ruby shouted. “Ozpin asked her ‘how do _I_ defeat Salem’ and Jinn said he couldn’t! That doesn’t mean _we_ can’t! That doesn’t mean _we_ can’t find a way!”

“At what point do we look at reality, though?” Zoya asked, her rifle lowered. “They’ve been fighting each other for years. Maybe it’s just better if we let them have this world, and take ourselves off of it.”

“What kind of attitude is that?!” Ruby asked. She sighed, looking to Blake, Yang and Weiss. “We all wanted to change the world when we went to Beacon, right? This is our chance! We can’t just give up now!”

They looked to one another, with Yang and Weiss wearing the same worried look that Blake was sure she had. There were so many unknowns. What if it didn’t work? What if Salem’s allies knew exactly how to stop them? What if this was just another chapter in a long, endless war, and they died tomorrow without changing anything? Blake wasn’t sure if she could face that right now.

“Okay, maybe I’m being pessimistic,” Zoya said, heading over to them. “And for that, I apologize, but right now we should keep moving. The Grimm are going to track us as long as we have that.”

“I agree,” Weiss said. “If… if nothing else, we should _try_ to get to Argus, and then… I don’t know. We’ll figure something out, I suppose.”

“What about Ozpin?” Yang asked.

It was a question that had no good answer, in honesty. Personally, Blake wanted to just abandon him. He had lied too many times to be trusted, and even with Oscar Pine acting as his host, they couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t be replaced entirely by Ozpin. And yet, she couldn’t find herself able to voice that opinion. Oscar wasn’t responsible for Ozpin’s crimes, after all. But Oscar could have tried to stop him earlier, right? Or was this preview that he showed them, the intense struggle he seemed to have with resisting Ozpin, a reflection of the fight going on in his body?

“I think it would be better if I left,” Ozpin said, and in a flash Oscar’s body language changed. He lost the quiet confidence and regained the awkward mannerisms of a kid with far too much weight on his shoulders.

“He… he’s gone,” Oscar said. “I don’t hear him anymore.”

“So does that mean he’s not there?” Blake asked. “What, did he go to another person or something?”

Oscar shrugged, apparently trying to figure out how to word his next sentence. “I… I don’t know. I don’t feel him in my – our body? I don’t know! I hate this!”

Sneering, Qrow shook his head. He turned and began walking away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go fucking die in Argus.”

Slowly, they began to move out, falling in behind Qrow. Oscar hung back, to which Ruby broke off to talk to him. With an uncertain future awaiting them at an equally uncertain destination, Blake looked forward. She was less than eager to again follow someone blindly, but right now, in the middle of northern Mistral with nowhere else to go? Blake didn’t feel like she had a choice. The snow continued to fall, chilling her as she stepped through half-frozen mud and over broken trees, with Yang carefully maneuvering Bumblebee next to her.

At least she had some good friends with her.

* * *

Hours of walking later, they arrived at what looked like an abandoned farm. The perimeter was closed in by a simple wooden fence, with an equally simple and utilitarian sign proclaiming it to be Brunswick Farms. The gate creaked as they opened it, a grim reminder of that night in the mausoleum grounds at Gorizont where a similar snowstorm and squeaky gate had signaled the beginning of a brutal fight. Three buildings formed a lazy triangle around a well, with garages and some sort of greenhouse flanking the road up to the well. It was quiet – far too quiet for Blake’s liking. The buildings looked in decent shape, all things considered.

“We may as well stop here for the night,” Qrow announced. “We’ll freeze to death if we keep going, storm’s getting worse.”

There were no dissenting voices today. They slowly began to secure the house, with Yang and Blake taking charge of the upper floor while Qrow checked the perimeter. Zoya headed out to the garages, while Ruby and Weiss cleared the main floor. Oscar stayed behind to act as a rallying point outside the first house. Once inside, the main house seemed fit for a head of estate more than a single family, with large oil paintings dotting the hallways. They looked like portraits of either revered people or important family members, if Blake had to speculate on their origin. A deep burgundy carpet lined the hall, with royal blue wallpaper trimmed with gold flanking them. Soft light-colored wood alternated between the second floor landing’s barrister and the molding at the top and bottom of the walls, weaving its way around doorframes and windows.

If it wasn’t abandoned and out in the middle of nowhere, Blake wouldn’t much mind living here.

The upper floor had no less than six rooms in it. So far, one unoccupied bedroom and what looked like a study, filled to the brim with books about farming, finances and mechanical maintenance. Yang noted the bed looked big enough to fit at least two people, a welcome change from sleeping on bedrolls and train car seats. A guest bathroom was clear, save for the inch of dust that was on every surface. That only left three more rooms. Blake lightly pushed open a paid of double doors that she assumed led to the master bedroom.

However, it opened to reveal the emancipated, dry remains of two people. Their skin was bound tightly to their bones like fine leather, their hair scraggly and growing wild. Blake couldn’t see if their eyes still existed, but she didn’t much care to. Quite involuntarily, she screamed and collapsed on the floor, shocked by the sight in front of her. Yang rushed to her side immediately, only to vomit the second she saw what Blake had. Thundering steps rose up the stairs – Ruby, Weiss, Qrow and Zoya were right there, having heard the scream and wondering what had happened, weapons drawn. Blake scarcely recognized the sequence of events to follow – she remembered Qrow picking her up and taking her downstairs, where Yang and Ruby sat by her side in an effort to calm her down. She remembered Qrow resolved to check every house. By the time she had calmed down enough to stop the tea in her hands from shaking, a cup Weiss had prepared for her almost precisely to her liking, Qrow had marched back in and bluntly informed them that each house was the same. It was as if every single person here had just up and died one morning.

“So… what’s our next option?” Weiss asked. “We still need to get to Mistral, are you _sure_ we can’t just leave now?”

“Nope,” Qrow said, shaking his head and taking a long, heavy drink from his flask. “Not unless you enjoy freezing to death. The storm will kill you before you even go a mile.”

That left one option. Staying here. Blake was never superstitious, but she was not thrilled about having to sleep in the same house as corpses. “I _don’t_ want to spend the night here,” she asserted.

“Well, tough luck, kid,” Qrow said, frowning. “We’re gonna have to. Look, we’ll leave at first light tomorrow. Promise.”

First light. That wasn’t too bad. She checked her Scroll. Without a connection to the CCT, it couldn’t tell her when sunrise would be, but she could guess based off the time alone and part of the world she was in. Maybe at about 5, 5:30? That was just seven hours from now, give or take. She could do that. It was easy to fall asleep for seven hours, right? After all, she’d done it countless times before.

Then again, she had never done it with corpses in the house.

Weiss decided to see if she could find some edible food in the house, while Zoya and Yang chose to check out the nearby garage for some kind of vehicle to get them to Mistral faster. Qrow took up a position near the front door, alcohol in hand, while Oscar elected to help Weiss out as best he could. That left Ruby and Blake alone for a while, with her team leader still determined to comfort her. The windows shook and rattled, apparently loose-fitting things that rocked with each gust of wind. Gaps in between the frames and the glass itself allowed whispers of wind to slip through, whistling through the night. Every time someone took a step in the house, the creaking and groaning of the wooden floors echoed throughout the house, obfuscating where somebody was. Occasionally, a gust of wind banged against the side of the house. The first few times she heard it she jumped, and Blake had mostly gotten used to it – still, though, she found herself looking behind her back a few times for an unknown enemy.

Blake found herself leaning on Ruby’s shoulder, staring at the snow that danced outside the window. The fire was warm, thankfully. Zoya had built it pretty well, but she wasn’t surprised by that. Zoya had shown her firemaking skills back in Gorizont, and arguably she needed that skill more in Gorizont than here. Blake just now noticed that the room was filled with books – _actual_ books, works of fiction and historical accounts, stories of the world, mysteries, thrillers… romances. The sorts of things she always wanted to have in her own library. Whether she was conscious of it or not, Ruby had leaned her head against Blake’s, holding her tightly. Had Ruby’s hands always been this warm, or was it being heated up by the hearth?

“Are you doing alright?” Ruby asked quietly.

“Y-yeah,” Blake said, feeling herself blush. God, it had been far too long since she ever thought about this. She had once pushed out any feelings she had for Ruby after Beacon fell just like she had Yang. Better to be distant and closed off, she had decided, than have her friends and family hurt by a psychopath. Better to be alone, she had told herself, than to let someone she loved get hurt again.

Ruby laughed, a bubbly little thing that instantly made Blake feel a little better. “Are you sure? You’re freezing, I feel like I’m touching an ice sculpture!”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Blake said, nervously laughing as well. “I’ve… always been a bit cold, I guess, bad circula-”

“I’ll get us a blanket!” Ruby said, jumping up to rummage through her pack.

“You’ll what?”

Ruby didn’t even hear her question. She had already ripped open her rucksack, rifling through it was the sort of speed that was characteristic for her. Blake heard her mutter something about not packing enough “good stuff” as she searched through it.

Oh God.

It was happening again.

Blake felt her heart flutter once more, the same sort of flutter that she had gotten when she first met Adam, saw Yang’s hair light up in the early morning sun, and just like before when the snow had caught on Ruby’s face in Vale. She had stuffed the feelings away – or so she thought – but tonight it was all coming back to her again. Blake knew she was staring, she _knew_ that she had the same stupid look on her face that she always had when she was just so overwhelmed with emotion there was nothing else she could do. Ruby didn’t seem to notice, and if she did, she must not have cared. Why did Blake do this to herself? She knew Ruby was straight as an arrow, there was no way she would ever consider this, especially not when they were so close to Argus. God, for Ruby it must feel like Jaune could fly around any corner.

The blanket was soon draped over her, and Ruby joined Blake underneath it, wrapping it around them and sighing contently as she snuggled – _she fucking snuggled up to her_ – next to Blake. Blake had to be delusional, right? This was just her being the same goofy, joyful person Ruby always had been. There wasn’t anything else to this. That was it. This was clearly just Ruby doing her best to be a good team leader.

And yet, maybe Blake was wrong. Maybe there _was_ something else to this. Blake felt her eyes well up. She was realizing far too late that this is what she ever wanted out of life. She just wanted a nice, quiet house somewhere, a warm fire, and someone beautiful like Ruby Rose to curl up with. Saving the world was one thing, but being able to go to a _home_ like this afterwards was what she really wanted.

Blake couldn’t take it anymore. She had to say something. “Ruby?”

“Mhm?”

It felt like just the act of swallowing was taking every part of her right now. Blake let out a heavy sigh, trying to find the right words. “I… I think I like you.” There was a pregnant pause immediately after. _Oh God I’ve gone and fucked this all up,_ Blake thought.

“Well, I’d hope you do,” Ruby said. “I mean, we’ve only been friends for a few years now!”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as fucked as she thought. After all, Ruby was nothing if not hilariously oblivious half the time. “No, Ruby, like… I really want to kiss you right now.”

The room was so quiet, Blake was sure she could hear anything. Hell, she might as well have been able to hear colors at this point. Ruby’s breathing, the soft puffs of air that tickled her ears, remained as steady as could be, a trait to be expected from an expert sniper like her. Blake heard Ruby open and close her mouth a few times, but she did not dare to break away to look her in the eye. How could she, after dropping that sort of bombshell?

“I… I don’t know what to say, Blake,” Ruby finally said. Didn’t she know how ludicrously frustrating that answer was? Couldn’t she sense Blake’s trepidation, the anxiety that was stopping her from moving even now?

“I know you dated Jaune for a long time, and I know I’m not him,” Blake said, the words falling out faster than she could attempt to stop them. “But I… I don’t know Ruby, you’ve always been there for me and goddammit, you showed me what’s possible. You made me believe in the _im_possible. I really care about you, and I just… I wanted you to know, alright?”

She wasn’t sure what Ruby was doing. Blake felt her move, but it didn’t feel like she was moving away. She pushed Blake up a little, taking her teacup from her hands and putting it on a neighboring end table, before turning back to look Blake in the eyes. What did she see? Did Ruby see the same light that Blake saw in her, the shine that could light up any room? Or did she see something else? The blanket by now had fallen by the wayside as Blake turned to face her, Ruby’s hands firmly planted on Blake’s shoulders. For maybe the first time since she met her, Blake had no idea what Ruby was thinking, nor could she read her face. She looked determined, but that could easily be mistaken for serious neutrality or… or something far more wonderful, in Blake’s mind.

“Blake,” Ruby said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear her at first. “I’m really happy you told me, first of all. I… I’m glad we don’t have secrets between each other, because I don’t want us to end up like Ozpin. I don’t want us to feel like we have to lie to each other.”

Blake’s heart skipped a beat, but it began to slow down just as quickly. Was Ruby about to tell her this was doomed from the world go? Was this another case of “thanks, but you’re a friend” sort of speech like she had given Yang in Gorizont? What a cruel reversal of fate – she rejects Yang, and now Ruby rejects her.

Ruby sighed, blinking to warm her again with a smile. “I think you’re a wonderful person, Blake, I really do. You’ve been one of my best teammates, and one of the best friends I could ever ask for.” _Oh god here it comes. Don’t you fucking dare cry, Blake._ “It’s… been really hard without Jaune. I don’t know if I’m ready to jump into anything yet. Maybe when this is all over, we can try something Blake, but right now I’m… I just want to get to Argus.”

_Okay, that wasn’t so bad,_ Blake thought, nodding. “Okay… okay, alright,” she said, trying to still her disrupted heart long enough so that it wouldn’t be tempted to burst out of her chest. Blake smiled, laughing subtly. “I was _really_ afraid you’d just… tell me no, for a minute there. Tell me I was crazy or something.”

“Why would I think you’re crazy?” Ruby asked, tilting her head to the side and frowning. “You have feelings, it’s okay. I’m just glad you didn’t try to hide from them.”

Blake laughed again. If only Ruby knew how much she had been hiding. “That’s fair, I guess. Is… is it too forward to ask for a hug?”

“I love giving hugs!” Ruby said, immediately crushing Blake in the very thing she had asked for. Blake returned it best she could, but she had a feeling her intensity wouldn’t come close to matching Ruby’s.

“I found some beans in the cabinet,” Weiss announced from around the corner, her shoes knocking against the wood as she entered. Blake and Ruby unintentionally broke from the hug in a rush. Blake nervously coughed, pushing back a stray lock of hair as Weiss looked up from the can of beans, arching an eyebrow. “Am… I interrupting something?”

“Nope!” Ruby said, keeping her _everything_ to herself. “Not at all! What kind of beans?”

“In some sort of red sauce,” Weiss said, with barely-concealed contempt in her voice. “_Disgusting._”

Blake chuckled to herself, watching Ruby hop up and join Weiss and Oscar on another quest to find some hopefully more palatable food. Good news was that conversation wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it would be, but also… well, maybe Blake had a chance after all. Soon, she was alone in the room, far too warm in all the wrong ways with nothing else to do.

* * *

Yang sighed, kicking over an empty paint can. The garage was dusty, and other than a tractor, she and Zoya hadn’t found anything that’d help them. She expected that there’d maybe be a truck or something in here, but no. Just paint, empty burlap sacks, the aforementioned tractor, bales of hay, and useless farm junk she didn’t see much use in. “Well, this sucks,” Yang muttered.

“Maybe we can still find something?” Zoya asked, rummaging through some kind of chest. “Or maybe in one of these other buildings…”

“I’m starting to think this place is just full of junk,” Yang said. “Dammit!”

Zoya sighed, standing up and facing her with a disapproving look on her face. “You should calm down, Yang. You’re an angry person.”

“I’m only _angry_ because nothing’s getting _done!_” Yang yelled, throwing her arms wide. On her way to do this, she accidentally hit one of the storage units, causing it to scatter dust everywhere. “What are we actually doing here?”

Shrugging, Zoya kept wandering around. “Waiting for the storm to clear up? I’m not partial to dying.”

Yang ignored her. She looked around the room again. Okay, take a second, breath. Yang sidestepped through a handful of massive tires, having spotted something metal that glistened in the dying light of the day. “Oh shit,” she said. “Hey, I’ve got a trailer here! Bet you I can hook this up to Bumblebee!”

Just as she looked up to figure out how to find the trailer’s hitch, she glanced out the window. There stood Adam, menacing them from afar. It looked like he was staring right at them, his visage mixing with the snow. Yang felt herself gasp, freezing in place. How had he tracked them here? How had he even _gotten_ here? It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t right. No, he couldn’t be here.

Though, if he wasn’t here, why was he raising his gun up to his shoulder, about to fire at her?

She didn’t hear the words. All she knew was that someone was touching her, and right now, with Adam right outside the window, she didn’t know if that hand was friendly or not. Yang whipped around, face to face with Zoya who looked rather confused and alarmed. It didn’t take Yang long to realize why – she had readied Ember Celica on instinct, a fist cocked back to destroy Zoya’s face. “He’s fucking out there,” Yang said, panicked and rushed as she lowered her fist.

“What?” Zoya asked, furrowing her brow. “Who?”

“Fucking Adam! The psycho at Beacon, at the mausoleum! He’s gonna fucking kill us, I know he is!”

Zoya’s face suddenly turned very serious, and she unslung her rifle from her back. She had a determined look on her face, racking back her bolt to check that she had a round loaded. “Well, let’s go find him, and we’ll kill him first, alright?”

Her breathing was still rapid. She had to do something to calm her down as her vision began to narrow, her peripheral vision fading rapidly. Yang nodded, following Zoya silently out of the garage. With Zoya and her rifle in a low ready position and Yang with Ember Celica ready to start throwing shots wherever it was needed, they toured the area around them. Yang pointed out that she had seen Adam deeper in the woods, and Zoya headed to it. Together, they cleared the area, and the more that Yang walked with her and checked every corner, every bush, every little nook and cranny that could have possibly hid Adam, the more she began to relax. Eventually, Zoya shifted her rifle to one hand, taking one last scan of the area as she turned back to Yang.

“Alright,” she said, “do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Bad news,” Yang said quietly.

“I can’t find any trace of this guy,” Zoya said, sighing.

“Then what the hell is the good news?”

“The only footprints I can find were either ours, or Qrow’s. So… I don’t think he was here at all. Do you wanna get out of this cold and tell me what’s going on?”

Yang sighed, her shoulders falling. It felt like they were heavier than anything else, and her metal arm wasn’t making things much better. She nodded, following Zoya back into the garage where they took seats on opposing tires set on the floor.

She tried to lean back, and then thought better of it when she realized she was farther away from the wall than she first thought. Zoya, meanwhile, rested her rifle against a dusty workbench, folding her hands in her lap and waiting for Yang to start talking. Granted, Yang had already calmed down a great deal – securing the perimeter and knowing for sure Adam wasn’t out there and that he was all in her head was helping with that – but hey, she had taken it seriously. Zoya didn’t act like Yang was going nuts. That mattered a hell of a lot to her.

“So… I guess you figured it out,” Yang began, clutching her cold metal arm. “This isn’t exactly my actual arm.”

“I could hazard a guess,” Zoya said, smiling softly.

“Yeah. Back at Beacon, Adam attacked the campus, and… he was gonna kill Blake. I could just tell. I didn’t _know_ that’s why he was there, but you just know sometimes. I fought him, blah blah blah, and… well, yeah, he took my arm. He showed up again at the mausoleum, and… I’d like to tell you I was the same badass bitch I’ve always been, but seeing him there, it freaked me the hell out. Seeing him _here_ freaked me the hell out.”

“It’s okay, Yang,” Zoya said sympathetically. “I know the feeling.”

She smirked, nodding. “Yeah. The whole deal with Suka, right?”

“Mhm. Albina Fominchina made me afraid. Now, I can lie to you and say that it’ll all be okay, but we both know that’s not the case. Albina Fominchina made me watch as she murdered my friends, all in Salem’s name. She told me if I ever came for her, I’d be next. I don’t think I left my house for a year. When I fought her in the mausoleum, she only managed to give me so many wounds because I was afraid of her.”

Yang sighed. If this wasn’t a familiar tale, she didn’t know what was. “How’d you do it?”

“I don’t think I really ever did. I’m still afraid. But that’s how people like her win – they get in your head. I can’t tell you how to fight your demons, Yang, but I can tell you that I’ve got your back when they come for you.”

The two stared at each other. Zoya had a look of pure determination on her face, but Yang just found herself confused. How the hell did this relate to what they were just talking about? “I don’t get it,” she said flatly.

“When we were at the Academy, in the Army,” Zoya explained, looking down with saddened eyes, “Koyla, Misha and I, we were comrades. And I don’t mean like the kind of comrade you just find anywhere in Gorizont, I mean _true_ comrades. We weren’t just family, we were something else. We had been forged in fire, and nothing would break us. When I lost them, it was like I fell into a bottomless pit.”

Zoya’s shoulders rose up for a second, and she shuddered. When she looked up again, Yang could clearly see how glassy her eyes were. No doubt this was bringing up some heavy shit for her. “_You’re_ my comrade now, Yang. You, your sister, Pyrrha, all of you.”

“You heard what Jinn said, though,” Yang said weakly. “You really want to stand by us even when we’re fighting an impossible war?”

“I have to,” Zoya said. “Adam took something from you. So, we didn’t get him last time. The next time he comes, I’ll stand by your side, I _promise_ you. So long as I have a breath in me and blood in my veins, you’ll never be alone.”

Yang scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t need protection.”

“Of course not,” Zoya replied. “I’m a soldier of Gorizont. We don’t leave our comrades behind for anything, and you aren’t any different, Yang. I don’t think you need protection, I think you need a friend to rely on when everything is at its worst.”

Yang had never really considered _that_ before. She was about to say no, tell Zoya she had it wrong, until she thought it over. Yang realized that, yeah, Zoya was right. If she wanted to make sure her friends and family were safe? She needed friends like Zoya who would never abandon her. “I… thanks, Zoya. Really. I… I think I needed to hear that.”

She smiled, grabbing her rifle and standing up. “Come on, we can check this trailer out tomorrow. We should get back to the house and get some sleep.”


	27. Dead End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apathy settles in.

Ruby sat up from her bedroll, stretching her aching back out. The room was still dark – Yang had shuttered the windows before they went to bed, refusing to explain why. Ruby scratched her shoulder, having developed some sort of itch overnight that didn’t want to go away. Quite lazily, she put away her bedroll, yawning the whole way. It looked like everyone else was still asleep, judging by the snoring and unmoving masses she saw in the rest of the room. Ruby stood up, heading to the window to open the blinds. She expected to see an early morning dawn, a deep blue hue across the landscape that would subtly mix with the glowing morning embers, but instead she was met with an unmistakable morning sun. It was _far_ too high to be first light.

“Oh gosh!” she yelled, turning around and shaking her friends up. “Get up! We overslept!”

They were roused groggily, rubbing their eyes and wondering what was going on. Ruby couldn’t find time to explain – she ran over to Qrow, who sat by the door in a rocking chair with empty bottles all around him. He was still sound asleep, drooling as another empty bottle clattered out of his hands and onto the floor, rolling across the hardwood and reverberating in the empty house. Ruby sighed, her shoulders falling as she kicked away the bottle. How long had he been like this? He must have found the wine cellar that she and Weiss found when they were exploring the house earlier, judging by the scene on his breath.

“Uncle Qrow,” Ruby muttered, shaking him awake. “Come on, we overslept.”

“What’s-huh?” Qrow slurred, his eyelids heavy as he looked around him. “Oh, hey, it’s morning.”

She stepped back, staring at Qrow in all his ignominy. How could he let himself get to this point? Granted, Ruby understood _why_ he drank now – who wouldn’t want to forget the fact that he had been just a mere pawn in Ozpin’s game – but he still had to have a rational brain cell left, right? He _had_ to have known this couldn’t help. “Uncle Qrow, you can’t drink this much.”

“Kid, you don’t know what it’s like,” he said, his head lolling from side to side as he tried to get up. “You… you can’t even drink yet, what d’you know about it…”

“I know you can’t help us when you’re this drunk!”

He seemed to regain his balance, steadying himself a little as he looked down on Ruby with bloodshot, jaundiced eyes. “You know, I remember the last time I was sober.” Uncle Qrow grabbed another bottle, testing its weight. Satisfied, he took a long swig, throwing it somewhere in a corner where it shattered. “It fucking _**sucked.**_ For _everyone._”

“You don’t mean that,” Ruby said. “It’s the alcohol talking. Come on, we’ll… I don’t know, we’ll get to Argus and then-”

“And then what?!” Qrow yelled, furrowing his brow as he threw his arms wide. “We’re at the end of the line! There _is_ no going forward, Ruby! Nothing we do is going to work!”

Ruby held back her own tears, doing her level best to make sure that nobody saw her cry. She had let it happen once, when she thought Pyrrha was about to die, but never again. She would _never_ let them see her cry. Ruby had to be strong, she had to keep moving forward. If she didn’t, then who? “I have to believe, Uncle Qrow. We need you, we need your help. If you don’t want to help, then… I don’t know, I guess we’ll just do it without you anyway.”

She looked up, her vision blurry and disrupted by the tears she had tried so hard to keep away. Uncle Qrow’s harsh, angry face softened, until he sighed heavily. He put a hand on his forehead, looking away from her. Eventually, he shook this off, heading out the door without even so much as a glance her way. Behind her, Yang yawned heavily. “What was that about?”

Ruby turned to face her sister, who looked like she was exhausted even after sleeping the full night. Maybe it was just an effect of the fighting. “I… he’s drunk.”

“That’s… not really unusual,” Yang admitted, shrugging.

“I mean, way worse than usual. Look, we’ve got to get going. You and Zoya said you found a trailer, right?”

Yang nodded, but it didn’t look like she had woken up any more. She rubbed her eyes, acting sluggishly as she looked outside. “Yeah, it’s in… that garage, it should fit everyone.”

Well, at least _some_ good news. “Alright, let’s hook it up and get going. I don’t think Blake wants to stay here any longer.”

Her sister nodded, heading out the door with a barely-heard murmur of agreement. Blake, Weiss and Oscar seemed equally slow in getting up, with only Zoya seemingly able to match Ruby’s energy. Zoya had already packed up her things, contracting her bedroll so tightly Ruby had to wonder how on earth it ever straightened out for sleeping. Zoya and Ruby’s encouragement, though, could not rouse the others from the stupor they seemed to be in.

Outside, Yang and Oscar had pulled the trailer up to Bumblebee, which Yang had easily attached to the hitch. It took her a while, because she moved as if in slow motion, but it was getting done regardless. Something about this whole morning was making Ruby unsettled, though. Her friends all had the same neutral monotone sort of cadence to the voice, and even suggestions of food didn’t perk anyone up. Save for Qrow who walked like a zombie, Zoya and Ruby were practically the only ones with any sort of energy to them.

It came to a subdued head over a tire, of all things.

Just when they had finished attaching it, Qrow commented on how things were finally looking up, and as a cruel reminder of his fate, Qrow’s Semblance struck again and burst a tire. Oscar half-volunteered, half-ordered by Qrow to find a pump and some way to patch up the tire. Blake mentioned she just felt _tired,_ and Weiss said something along the same lines.

“I’ve been thinking,” Weiss said slowly and deliberately, her blank eyes staring off into the distance. “What are we doing? I mean, why are we doing all of this?”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked, furrowing her brow. “We’re going to Atlas to find the next Relic.”

Weiss shook her head. “But what’s the _point_ of it? We’re just going to keep running and fighting and… in the end, does it even matter?”

“I’ve… kind of been thinking the same,” Blake said drearily, yawning loudly. “We’re just another generation in what’s been a… what, an eons long war? Is what we do written on stone or in sand?”

“We can just… toss the Relic somewhere, come back for it,” Yang said, circling around her bike. “Who knows how long it’ll take Salem to find it? It’d be years. We don’t have to worry about it then. Just toss it down the well, and it’d be out of our hair.”

Ruby blinked, staring at her friends and her sister like they had lost their minds. Who _were_ these people? What was going on? She looked over at Zoya, who looked just as confused as she did about this whole thing. This wasn’t making any sort of sense. “What are you guys even _talking_ about?!” Ruby yelled, slowly realizing that her breathing was speeding up. “We _have_ to do this!”

“We don’t,” Yang lazily argued. “We just… throw it away.”

“No!” Ruby shouted. “We’re not abandoning our mission! If we don’t do this, nobody else will!”

Blake sighed, slowly shaking her head. Last night, her eyes had been full of life, joy, and maybe a little anxiety, but right now? They were dead, completely drained of any soul or emotion. “We never asked for this, Ruby. We don’t have to do this.”

They began to close in on her, each one pressuring her to just forget about their mission to Ozpin and abandon the Relic. Her teammates had been pushing her towards the well, and just as Ruby made contact with the stone that formed it, her grip loosened. On instinct, she turned around and held on to the cold, indifferent stone.

Ruby watched in horror as the Relic fell down the well, a light blue glow quickly fading away until she heard a faint but sure sound of the Relic dropping into water.

“No, no no no no!” Ruby said, her breathing and heartbeat now in overdrive. She _couldn’t_ have dropped the Relic. She needed it, _they_ needed it. “I can’t believe I dropped it! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yang said, halfheartedly putting a hand on her shoulder. “You slipped. We can go home now.”

“No! I’m not leaving without the Relic! It’s down there, I know it is!” Ruby turned around, clenching her fists half in anger, half in steeled determination. She would _not_ let them get in her way, strange behavior or not. “We’re going down there to get it!”

“Do we have to?” Weiss asked.

“I’ll stay up here,” Zoya said. “When you guys get back with the Relic, we’ll go, alright?”

“I guess that’s okay,” Yang said, shrugging.

Ruby nodded, silently thanking Zoya. Time to head down. She jumped down the well, landing softly as Weiss, Blake and Yang jumped in behind her. The well’s tunnels were incredibly dark, forcing Ruby to turn her Scroll’s flashlight on. God, she hadn’t felt it before, but there was such an intense unease, a presence almost, that was telling Ruby she was not welcome here. It was like every creepy ghost story she had read as a kid, the sort of tales where heroes just like her ignored every warning sign and kept going into the dark caverns. Ruby couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt like she was being watched.

The underground tunnels, more accurately catacombs, took many twisting and confusing turns. The Relic couldn’t have gotten far – all the water flowed in one direction, after all. Cold air brushed through the cobweb and moss-covered arches, and they waded their way through the tunnels with mostly only Ruby looking for any sign of the Relic. It _had_ to be down here. Nothing else made sense. She saw a faint blue light emanate from a corner – that had to be the Relic! She ran to the light, picking it up and finding the Relic safe and sound. The fact it was a dead end part of the tunnel did not bother her. Instantly, relief washed over her.

“Hooray,” Blake said weakly. “We found it. Can we go now?”

Ruby hooked the Relic to her hip, smiling as she looked up. When she brought her Scroll’s flashlight up to turn around and start heading back, however, she found herself face to face with a tall, narrow-faced Grimm, with a stark white human skeleton adoring its head. Every part of it looked like a living skeleton come to life, save for the stark red eyes and red aura that emanated from its mouth. She froze, trying to scream, say words, do _something_, but all she could do was stare in terror.

“Holy _fuck!_” Yang shouted. “Fucking run!”

She whipped around, following Yang, Weiss and Blake as they started to trace back their path to get out. There _had_ to be a way out, right? Surely these tunnels didn’t just go on forever? They ran down all sorts of twists and turns and blindingly dark passages, encountering even more packs of these demented horrors as they ran. The Grimm’s horrific screams echoed and bounced off the walls, ringing in her ears even long after they had fallen silent. Each time they opened their mouths, Ruby felt like every bone in her body was shaking. She looked at her friends, seeing that they were negatively affected by it, slowing down and weakening with every step and groan.

Shots rang out, but this wasn’t from any of their weapons. Due to the nature of the tunnels, Ruby couldn’t place where the fire was coming from, and it looked like the Grimm were equally confused about it. She heard Zoya calling out for them, for _her,_ trying to find them while working her way through what must have been at least a hundred Grimm, if not more. With renewed vigor, Ruby pushed through, taking out Crescent Rose and opening fire. She squeezed the trigger, sending a round out. It slammed right into the Grimm in front of her, but it barely even reacted to it. The Grimm continued to advance, even though it was missing an arm.

“Ruby!” Zoya shouted, turning the corner. “This way!”

“I can’t kill these things!” she yelled back.

“Aim for the head! Come on!” Zoya raised her rifle to her shoulder, working the bolt faster than even Ruby could as she began firing on the Grimm, landing headshot after headshot. Slowly but surely, she cleared a path for Ruby and her team, literally running over and dragging Weiss with her. “We have to go, _now!_”

Yang seemed to have woken up, cocking back Ember Celica as she ran. “Which way?!”

Zoya guided them through the catacombs, turning them left, right, nearly backwards a few times, until they eventually came to the wine cellar. Ruby could see the light pouring in from the basement door, but another horrible scream from the Grimm knocked them down. She hit her head on the stairs, finding her vision blurry as she regained her senses. Her head pounded, a ringing in her ears that she wasn’t entirely sure was from either the blow to her head or the Grimm’s noise. She propped herself up, feeling as if her head weighed a million pounds, to see that her friends were unmoving. The stairs were _right there._ They were so close, and yet so far at the same time. As if by magic, Ruby watched the distance between sanctuary and herself grow, the stairs stretching out to an impossible distance until the light up top became just a mere blip.

The Grimm continued to approach, staring at them with hungry, cold eyes. She could see it playing out in her mind. First, they would kill Weiss, for she was the closest. Then Blake. Then Zoya. Then Yang. And last, but certainly not least, Ruby. So, this was how it ended. The Grimm approached her friends, and for the third time in her life, Ruby felt her heart drop into her stomach, an awful drop that she now associated with the usage of her silver eyes. She felt the world disappear in a flash of light once more, and could not relay what happened afterwards even if she tried.

* * *

The white was blinding, far too bright for her to comprehend. Every part of her felt like it was floating, as if she was in a pool of water. There was a tranquility with this sensation, even though she couldn’t tell what was up and what was down, she wanted to dwell here forever. Maybe take a nice, long nap. However, before her appeared a strange light that did not match the rest. It was a strange yellow, or perhaps closer to gold. She blinked, and in the time it took her to do that the light was ever closer, and she saw it was not just a mere light but it had formed into a fully-fledged human form. Ruby gasped as she realized what was going on. This was the God of Light.

“Ruby Rose,” He said, His voice booming and echoing even though there was nothing for it to bounce off of. “You have ignored my voice for so long.”

“I… I didn’t know,” she said weakly. “What… what’s going on? Am I dead?”

He laughed, shaking His featureless head. “No, far from it. You have saved your friends from certain doom. I am impressed, Ruby Rose. I have never seen someone with your skills before.”

The compliment was nice, and yet Ruby didn’t feel comforted by it. Something was off. The tranquility she had before was gone now, replaced by an unease she couldn’t shake. “Why did you do the things you did?” Ruby found herself asking. “Why abandon Remnant? Why make people like me special?”

The God of Light folded His mighty arms, and if He had a face, she was sure it would be remorseful right now. “I cannot rationalize my actions,” He said. “Not just for the lack of judgment I had in making them, but because the human mind cannot comprehend the workings of a god. This is not a fault – this is mere reality.”

“That’s not much of an answer.”

“You will grow to understand what is to be required of you in time,” He advised. “Ruby Rose, know this – you and your friends will survive. We have been watching you and your development ever since your existence was foretold. We know that when humanity’s survival is on the line, you and your friends can do the right thing.”

Ruby blinked. Her head began to hurt again – was it a result of whatever divine energy resonated off of the God of Light, or just her own confusion about what in the world He was telling her? Either way, she didn’t find it much making sense to her, and began to feel that He was starting to give her the runaround. “I don’t get it.”

“As I said, you will in time. Your journey is not yet over, Ruby Rose.”

* * *

By the time Ruby was brought back to reality, Blake was gently shaking her awake, telling her that they had made it to Argus. She sat up, looking over the crest of the hill as Yang drove over it to reveal the skyline painted against the early evening sun. Already, thousands of lights were twinkling, and as they got closer Ruby could hear the sounds of a city in motion. Argus had been built on a craggy coast, with steep hills that seemingly cut to near-vertical drops lined with cars. Trams crossed the city streets, built into them and embedded, practically part of the city itself judging by how many people used them. The architecture reminded her of Gorizont, but not quite in the way she expected – it was all very colorful and beautiful, but in Gorizont the apartments had been wide and short. In Argus, the rowhouses were thin and narrow, as if everyone was packed together in a subway and trying to stretch out. Befitting the northern atmosphere, snow dotted the brick streets, each one decorated ornately with a carefully planned pattern.

They parked Bumblebee in a storage unit, safely stowing it away until they needed it later. Ren, Nora, Roy, and Pyrrha met them at the storage facility, with her old friends greeting them with strong, overwhelming hugs. They were finally _safe._ Back together again, if only for however long it took to figure out what the next step was.

“We were so worried about you guys!” Nora said, squeezing Ruby so hard she was sure her head would pop. “We lost contact and thought you’d died!”

“Well, safe and sound,” Ruby said, laughing. “Where have you guys been staying? We were gone for at least a day!”

Roy chuckled, shooting them a finger gun. “_I_ took care of that. Got us hosted up in a kickass hotel.”

“How’d you manage to get _that?”_ Zoya asked, furrowing her brow.

“I know a guy who knows a guy, you know how it is,” Roy replied, shrugging. “C’mon, I’m getting tired of hanging around here.”

They followed Roy, Ren, Nora and Pyrrha back to the hotel. Ruby couldn’t help but think that, while this was a good reunion and all, what they had learned _had_ to come up eventually. They deserved to know, and as Ruby looked to her friends and her sister, she knew that they were thinking the exact same thing. It felt like they were quietly assigning the lead on when to tell them to her. Well, she wasn’t surprised – after all, she _was_ the team leader. Ruby sighed as they headed for a jazz-filled downtown area, filled with festivities and the like. Their hotel was as grand as could be, with no less than three rooms assigned to them all joined together by a foyer. Ruby found herself in awe – she had _never_ been in a hotel this grand before, and part of her wished she could stay forever. When she walked into the lobby, stark white marble floors met her, each step carefully carved out to surround a statue.

A statue that she found horribly, awfully familiar.

It was Jaune, a clear and stark reminder that, once again, she had lost one of the best things to ever happen to her in this world. Ruby collapsed to her knees, unable to even stem the flow of tears. She had always told Jaune she’d come to Argus, visit his family with him one day and then go to his actual home to find the rest of his sisters. She never thought that her arrival in Argus would be like this.

Her friends surrounded her, urging her to keep moving. “I’m so sorry, Ruby,” Pyrrha said quietly. “We didn’t see it when we came in, we would have told you-”

“How could you not see it?” Ruby hissed. “It’s _ten feet tall_ for crying out loud!”

“Come on, Ruby,” Blake said, her soft hands gently urging her along on the small of her back. “Let’s just get to our rooms and calm down a little, alright? We’ve all had a long few days.”

She was moved like a ghost through the rest of the lobby, shielded from prying eyes by familiar friends and rabid new allies, until finally they reached the elevator. Still, Ruby could not see herself from not crying anytime soon. This had been the _one trip_ they were going to take when they were done with Beacon, or at least on a long enough break. Her breathing was labored, and for all purposes everything else about her was a mess. All Ruby wanted right now was to just curl up into a ball and let the world swallow her whole. She hated that just seeing a stupid statue was bringing this much emotion right up to the forefront, and the fact that she couldn’t focus on anything was making this whole ordeal even worse.

Well, unfortunately, she _could_ focus on something. She could plainly hear everyone talking around her, from Roy asking what the fuck was up with her to Yang’s rapid defense of her. Zoya’s calm, collected explanation mixed with Pyrrha’s emotionally charged response, but every time Ruby tried to say something, her words were incoherent, almost as if she was speaking a different language. Couldn’t they just see she wanted to be left alone right now, to wallow in her own misery? Maybe this was a culmination of every emotion she had bottled in ever since the fall of Beacon. Either way, Ruby retreated to one of the rooms, locking the door behind her. She buried her head in the pillows, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to wick away her tears and let her be presentable to the world once more.

She honestly had no idea how much time had passed. It felt like mere minutes, but the way the voices from the foyer and other rooms carried in, maybe it was far later. Someone had either picked the lock to her room, or unlocked it, gently knocking as they came in. “Go away,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillows. Whoever it was persisted, closing the door behind them and sitting next to her on the bed.

“Are you doing okay?” Blake. Even after everything, she still wanted to check up on Ruby, either out of her own volition or volunteering herself. Ruby sighed, rolling over to face her. She was sure her face was a mess, whatever makeup she had left on smudged and running, eyes no doubt puffy and red. The less said about her nose, the better.

“You don’t wanna see me like this,” Ruby said weakly.

Blake smiled, shaking her head. “I’ve seen you a _lot_ worse,” she said. “This is nothing.”

“Okay, _I_ don’t want you to see me like this.”

Blake turned away, before lying down on the bed next to her. Her long black hair went everywhere, smothering Ruby’s face for a minute before she brushed it away, all the while Blake just stared at the ceiling deep in thought. “I… did some reading while you were in here. I don’t know if this helps you or not, but Jaune’s family paid for memorials to him all around places here. I guess his sisters are kind of scattered all over the place, so they… wanted somewhere that they could always go say hi to their brother.”

Nothing escaped Ruby’s eyes this time. She felt like she had used up all her tears just upon the initial meeting with Jaune’s statue, and didn’t even have the energy to show more sadness. She joined Blake in staring at the ceiling, looking at a textured white slab that sparkled and danced as the sunlight went down and incandescent lights replaced it. “That’s… I don’t know, but it’s nice,” she said.

“You deserve to be happy, Ruby,” Blake said, slipping her hand in hers, a move Ruby did not attempt to stop. She heard Blake take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she squeezed Ruby’s hand tight. “I know you miss Jaune. We _all_ do. Not the way you do, of course, but… we hate seeing you like this. I wish I could make this all better for you, and that we didn’t have to do any of this, and… well, you know.”

“Lose people along the way?” Ruby asked, turning her head. Blake returned her gaze, her ears drooping.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. Blake closed her eyes, slowly shuffling her way closer to Ruby until their shoulders touched, and their hands disappeared between them. “I’m fucking _terrified_ of what’s going to happen when we get to Atlas, Ruby. I won’t be able to take my bow off there. If they find out what I am-”

“I won’t let that happen,” Ruby said, cutting her off. She withdrew her hand from Blake’s, taking it and cupping her face as she met her sad, amber eyes. “I’ll protect you, Blake. If anyone wants to hurt you, they have to go through me first.”

“Promise?” Blake asked, her lower lip quivering. Ruby had seen Blake scared, even afraid before, but this was more than that. She was as she claimed – absolutely terrified. Ruby nodded, pulling Blake into a hug and quietly promising her that, yes, she would protect her come hell or high water.

Their hug was interrupted when Yang knocked on the door, pausing for a second after opening it. She blinked at them, before shaking whatever had given her pause off and jerking a thumb to the others. “We… really need to tell them,” Yang said, before letting her arm fall limp at her side. She looked at them with a dismayed frown on her face, before sighing and turning around. “I’ll… give you guys a minute, or something.”

Blake got up first, nervously brushing her hair out of her face and making a quick escape out of the room. Well, Ruby may as well follow. She headed out, hopefully looking far better than she had going in. Weiss, Yang, and Blake all had the same look of dismal determination on their face. No going back from this. They headed into the other room, where the others were hanging around. Zoya, Oscar and Qrow all looked depressed – surely, they knew what was coming. Pyrrha looked up and waved at them as they came in.

Ruby took a deep breath, letting it out slowly but surely as she shifted her weight. “We… we have something we need to talk about.”


	28. Heimatschuß

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reaction to Jinn's revelations is less than enthusiastic.

“_**Fuck!**_” Roy slammed his fist into the wall, cracking it as he immediately pulled it back, waving it around and muttering in pain.

“Roy! Calm down!” Zoya said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, _calm down,_ that’s what you want me to do?” he said, laughing incredulously. “What the _fuck?!_ What’re we supposed to do now, I-I guess we’ll uh, build a little campfire, huh, sing a little song? _We can’t kill someone that can’t be killed!_ It’s game over, man!”

Zoya sighed, her shoulders falling. She had known that this little announcement of theirs wouldn’t be met positively, but this… this was chaos. Roy had predictably flown off the handle. Nora and Ren looked completely broken. Pyrrha… well, her hollow eyes told Zoya all she needed to know. She had dedicated her life to this – Pyrrha had told her as much before – and now to know it was all worthless? That had to be a shock that could not be recovered from easily.

“We _have_ to keep moving forward,” Ruby said, though Zoya could tell from her voice that even she wasn’t quite sure whether to believe that now. “There has to be a way to defeat Salem.”

Roy shook his head, turning around to face them once more. He looked betrayed, hurt, and why shouldn’t he? He had never _wanted_ to help on this anyway. “Oh yeah? What, your little friend here’s got all the secrets ‘cause he’s a thousand fuckin’ years old, huh?” Roy stomped over, narrowing his eyes at Oscar, before grabbing him by the collar and pinning him against the wall. “What _else_ is the little shit hiding, huh?! Who’s to say he ain’t been lying to us this whole time?!”

“Roy! Put the kid down!”

“He’s not here!” Oscar pleaded, holding his hands up to protect himself. “I don’t hear him anymore!”

Roy shook him, glowering at Oscar with gritted teeth. “Yeah? I bet ya, right, this kid’s playing us! Betcha the old dude’s in here right now playing us like fucking fiddles!”

_Enough was enough._ Zoya unslung her rifle, pointing it at Roy. “Put him down, Roy,” she ordered. “I won’t ask you again.”

A muted gasp filled the room, as Roy slowly cocked his head to look at her. His eyes flicked between her own and the barrel of her rifle, before he frowned and shoved Oscar to the ground. Taking out a cigarette and his lighter, Roy left to head out to the balcony, no doubt to smoke. The tension that had risen in the room was now starting to cool off, but there was an unspoken unease that Zoya could almost feel as she lowered her rifle.

“Is… is he gonna be okay?” Blake asked.

“I don’t think _any_ of us are,” Ren said. “Perhaps… it would be best if we all took some time to ourselves.”

Ren and Nora headed off to a room, while Pyrrha closed herself off even to her closest friends. Zoya sighed, headed to the balcony as she slung her rifle back. May as well check in with Roy. He could be hotheaded at the worst of times, but he usually cooled off pretty quickly, especially if he was smoking right after.

The cool night air was a welcome change from the stuffy hotel room, especially with Argus’s lights twinkling against the deep blue sky. Below her, she could hear the sounds of the city from streetcar bells, cars driving around, and the occasional Atlesian military airship flying overhead. It reminded her of Veliky Kursk, except here, there weren’t loudspeakers broadcasting daily reminders about how to be good Gorizont citizens or persuading arguments to join the military full-time. Here, there was just a peace and tranquility that reflected how in the shadows and unknown the war she had just joined was. Not a soul here knew that there was a grand conflict playing out behind the scenes, one that seemed completely unwinnable. Roy barely glanced at her as she came out, his smoke billowing away as fast as it came out of his mouth.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey.”

Roy sighed, leaning against the railing as he looked out at Argus. Even from here, the Atlesian military base loomed over the city. It was impossibly tall, lit up with every possible manner of searchlights and navigation aids that it stood like a sentinel in the night. Zoya thought that it was a monument to Atlesian imperialism.

“So, uh,” Roy finally said, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry about flipping out in there. I… I was pretty pissed off.”

She laughed, joining him in leaning over the railing. “You’re lucky Misha isn’t here. If he had seen that, I think you’d actually be dead.”

The cigarette went flying away, casually tossed like the piece of garbage it was as the dying embers of his light faded out. Soon, the small red-orange glow joined the thousands of lights below and around them. Roy stared out at the skyline, his expression neutral and betraying no hint of emotion either way. “Yeah, well, he ain’t here, is he?”

A twinge of pain struck Zoya’s heart, as if someone had plucked at it like a balalaika. Ironic that she had thought of that – the very same stringed instrument was one of Misha’s favorites to play, and he practiced often with it. Zoya remembered falling asleep at their dorm in the Academy to the sound of him plucking away at the strings, tuning them for the next morning. More often than not, he’d regale them with folk songs or whatever made-up tune struck his fancy. Roy was uncomfortably right. Misha _wasn’t_ here. He was rotting somewhere in Gorizont, far away from home and the place he _should_ have been buried. A bitter smile crossed Zoya’s face as the memories came back.

“You’re right,” she said. “He’s not. I wish he was.”

“Zoya, what the fuck are we doing?”

She sighed, shrugging. “I don’t know. I want to believe Ruby Rose and her friends have a plan, but…”

“Well, these losers ain’t much better,” Roy said, no doubt referring to Ren, Nora and Pyrrha. “While you guys were gone, we went to the Atlesian military base. Those dudes looked ready to shoot us for _looking_ at them wrong.”

There was just no end, was there? Zoya closed her eyes, trying to shake off the bad feelings but failing. It felt like life was just an endless parade of obstacles and misery, and she had no way to get away from it. “Roy, do you think we can do anything? I mean, do you think there’s anything at all that we can do to win this?”

He let out a long, drawn-out breath as she opened her eyes to look at him. Gone was the irritation, the anger that he had not just five minutes before, replaced by a muted weariness. She could feel it – they were _all_ tired at this point. “I mean, you’d know more than me. Shit, I just run drugs for cash, Zoya. I ain’t never thought much about life beyond whatever was gonna happen tomorrow, y’know? Compared to _you,_ well, you had your whole life planned out.”

“A lot of help that plan turned out to be,” she scoffed. “I dropped everything after Albina Fominchina killed Misha and Koyla.”

“Yeah…” Roy said quietly. He hadn’t known them long- mostly because Misha had only arrested him a short while before his untimely death – but despite their obvious differences, the three of them appreciated how easily Roy was able to get them things from the rest of the world, and Roy was grateful that they could protect him from Gorizont police on occasion. Back then, they had been fast friends, even faster comrades, surprising to her considering Roy built his life on the back of being a criminal. “I dunno, maybe we ought to just… go the fuck home, you think?”

“We can’t,” Zoya replied, shaking her head. “If I wasn’t under suspicion before, the Organization would shoot me on sight if I went back. And you… well, you’d be done for.”

Roy groaned, putting a hand on his forehead. “Then we’re fucking done, Zoya. I’m sorry, but that’s just the straight truth. Unless you got something we… can…”

She stared at him, cocking an eyebrow as he stared out at the skyline. It seemed like he was staring at something, but for the life of her, Zoya couldn’t figure out what. What was going through his head? Was it something she had said, an offhand phrase or remark that gave him either insight or some sort of bizarre pause? Eventually, Zoya decided to just wave her hand in front of his face, snapping him out of whatever trance he had been in.

“Okay, so, uh, bear with me,” he said, pulling away from the railing and clapping his hands together. He had a certain mischievous look on his face, something Zoya knew _always_ meant trouble. “This might be a pretty dumb idea, but, hey, if it works? You all are gonna be thankin’ me.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s gather everyone up, then. They’re going to want to hear whatever _brilliant_ idea you cooked up, otherwise they won’t believe me when I tell them.”

Without even a hint of irony in his swagger, Roy headed back in with her, where the two convinced and cajoled the others to hear him out for his new idea. He guaranteed it was a game-changer, and all Zoya promised was that it was “something else to do.” She really hoped that this wouldn’t be something really stupid, but knowing Roy, maybe that was a long shot.

He waited until they were all in the room, standing in front of the coffee table with them gathered around, rubbing his hands together excitedly. He seemed more like a kid waiting to perform for his parents than someone about to relay a plan to win a war. “Alright,” he said, pacing around the room. “So, the Atlas military base, yeah? Nobody goes in or out of Atlas right now, _so,_ I had the idea when I was out on the balcony having my little smoke break.”

_Here we go,_ Zoya thought. She folded her arms, waiting for him to reveal the details.

“I saw all their little airships going in and out, yanno, and I thought hey, we oughta get ourselves one of those. So, here’s my plan – you ready for this?” He looked around the room to flat, expectant faces, each one silently asking him to go ahead and get it over with. “We sneak onto the Atlas military base, steal ourselves a transport, and we fly out before they even know what hit ‘em!”

He clapped his hands together, throwing a celebratory gesture and shouting “Boom!” along with it, looking very proud of himself as he leaned back on a doorframe. Roy chuckled, rubbing his knuckles on his chest and smiling wide. “I know, I know, ‘Thank you, Roy, that’s a great idea, you saved us!’ Hold your applause, I know I’m beautiful.”

The silence that met him was deafening. Zoya didn’t think to look around, but she was sure every single person in the room had the same slackjawed look on their face. “Roy,” she finally said after an eternity, “that is the single stupidest fucking idea I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“These aren’t some two-bit punks,” Qrow yelled, throwing his arms out. “This is the _Atlesian military_ we’re talking about here! There is no going back from that! This is different from Gorizont and Mistral, don’t you people _get that?!_”

“We do,” Pyrrha said weakly. “Why do you think we’re not taking this seriously right now?”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Roy chimed in, his smile gone and pointing an accusatory finger at them. “I ain’t seeing any of _you_ guys coming up with ideas!”

Weiss cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, pensively pursing her lips as she sighed heavily. “We… don’t need to really _steal_ anything to get in, since the border isn’t entirely closed.”

“Huh?” Zoya asked. “What do you mean?”

“Every two months, Atlas allows exactly fifty people in. Returning Atlesian citizens are allowed to go through immediately, but for everyone else… well, you need to go through a border checkpoint,” Weiss explained. “The lines are undoubtedly long, so we would need to get there almost days beforehand, but… it’s an option. It’s the only way I can see that we get to Atlas.”

“Alright, that’s our gambit, then,” Qrow announced. “We’ll all stand in line at the border checkpoint. Great. I’m gonna go drink.”

As promised, he headed off with his flask in hand. Weiss sighed again, shaking her head and ignoring him. “The good news is I can get in easily. The bad news is I don’t think it’ll be so easy for _you_ two,” she said, pointing at Zoya and Roy. “You’re from Gorizont, and that means-”

“Whoa, hold on now,” Roy interjected. “What’s the problem with me? I grew up in Vacuo, yo!”

“Okay, well, that’s _still_ a problem. You _all_ will need fake IDs, because I do _not_ want my friends on a permanent Atlesian assassination list.”

Roy smirked, holding up a finger. “Ah, that ain’t gonna be a problem. I know a guy around here, he can get us IDs real quick.”

“Oh, good,” Ruby said, “I was worried we’d-”

“Any of you guys have like, twenty thousand Lien? Cause, uh, that’s probably gonna be his price for this many IDs that quick.”

Zoya sighed, facepalming just as quickly as the words had come out of his mouth. She heard the others groan. Of _course_ there was going to be a catch. Time to get started on arts and crafts – they’d have to work hard to get this done, especially after Weiss reminded them the next border opening was in four days. No doubt by now people would already be on their way there.

* * *

It had taken the better part of two days, and a lot of frustrating calls back and forth with contacts Roy knew that could get the job done both quickly and cheaply, but they had managed to forge, copy, and fake enough IDs to get them into Atlas. Each one came with a cover story they had rehearsed and perfected down to the smallest detail. They all had good reasons to go to Atlas, and Qrow had even managed to talk to General Ironwood – a contact that surprised the hell out of all of them, to be frank – to make sure that there would be minimal problems at the border.

It looked like things were finally starting to look up.

At least, they were until an uncomfortably familiar face stopped them in the streets. Suka’s demented smile seemed to taunt them as she approached, even as they prepared their weapons for combat. There was no talking, no verbal sparring between them. Zoya stared at the deranged woman across from her with a hate that burned so brightly, Ruby could feel it even from where she was. Just as quickly, two other people stepped out from the shadows – a tall, slender man with olive skin, purple motif, and a pugilistic flair about him, accompanied by a man with well-tanned skin and simple clothing, his dark eyes piercing their very souls.

“So, this is the grand coalition that has assembled itself against Salem,” the tall man said, his mustache dancing as he looked down on them. “How pathetic. Here I thought there would have been at least a few more… _adults_ in the group.”

“It matters little,” the large man said, snorting. “Ozpin, I hope you’re ready to die. I’ll kill you so many times, there won’t be a body for you to come back to.”

A gasp escaped Ruby’s lips, and she heard similar noises emanating from her friends. How did this guy know that Ozpin was in Oscar? Or about his abilities? Had Salem told him, and if so, how had she known who Ozpin had reincarnated into?

“He-he’s not in my head anymore,” Oscar said weakly. “I haven’t heard him in a week!”

The man sighed, shaking his head. “He hasn’t told you, has he? About how he _murdered my family?!_ Ozpin, you coward! Face me like a man!”

Footsteps. These weren’t familiar, and they were coming from behind them. Ruby whipped around as a man cleared his throat, a soft metallic clicking noise accompanying it. It was… _the Headmaster?_ What was Judas L’Etranger doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? “All of you are quite out of your depth,” he announced, adjusting his tie. “Promise not to bleed on my suit, and I’ll kill you quickly.”

“Judas?” Qrow asked, the betrayal apparent in his voice. “After all I’ve done for you? You go and do this? Betray me, betray Oz, for _Salem?!_”

“It is only natural, what Salem intends to do. Ozpin is standing in the way of progress, you must realize this.”

“You’ve gone insane,” Qrow shouted.

Headmaster L’Etranger manipulated the knife in his hands, keeping it ready to attack at any moment. “Your eternal reward awaits, you, _old friend_.”

“Less talk,” the large man demanded, “more fight!”

There could not have been a more appropriate war cry. The two sides stepped off into a brutal flurry of fire, from madness-induced swings from Suka and Zoya to the scattered shots from Yang, Blake and the newcomers. The Headmaster and Qrow engaged in a fight to the death, while the massive hulk of a man stabbed Dust into his very arms, apparently able to ignore the pain.

Ruby found herself helping Zoya engage Suka, dodging the shots she lobbed at her and pausing only long enough to reply back in kind. There couldn’t be any strategy, any real tactics beyond just fighting for survival. All Ruby could do was hope that her friends could match wits with their foes and come out on top. They had to, after all.

* * *

It had been a long, _long_ time since Qrow had ever even sparred with Jude.

That was turning out to bite him in the ass today.

As he and Jude traded blows and dodged punches, stabs, and shots, Qrow couldn’t help but think about how this had come to be. He had felt Jude’s body, touched it and felt cold, clammy skin touching back. He had seen the blood, the scars of an obvious battle. So if all of that had happened, why was he living and breathing right in front of Qrow? He held back, and on instinct Jude did the same. No doubt he still believed in _gentleman’s rules._

“Why do this?” Qrow asked. “Why betray Oz? Betray _us?_”

“I know that you know what he did to you,” Jude said quietly. “The world will _thank_ me for this.”

“What’s she promised you? Money? Fame? Lifetime free of worry?”

Jude scoffed, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t understand. You never have, not since that day. You are an amateur and a _fool,_ Qrow, you should never have fallen in with that charlatan.”

Jude lunged forward, nicking Qrow with his knife, Your Eternal Reward. The only advantage Qrow really had was the length that his scythe afforded him, but that length and reach meant nothing if Jude could keep doing like he had been and slipping in close. Qrow replied by delivering an elbow hit to Jude’s face, knocking him off-balance. Unexpectedly, the kid, Roy, came in from behind, taking his wooden baseball bat – why the fuck did he even use that – and slamming it against Jude’s skull, forcing him to fall to the ground, flat.

“_Boom!_” Roy taunted, standing over Jude’s body. “Hard to stab a guy in the back when he’s beatin’ your fucking head in, huh?”

“Wait, hold on,” Qrow said. “He’s done this before!”

Roy looked up, confused. “What, shapeshifted into a dead guy? Ho-how’s that even work?”

Before Qrow could even attempt to explain, Jude appeared in a puff of smoke behind Roy. Your Eternal Reward was raised high in the air, prime position to be driven deep into Roy’s back. Qrow leaped forward, shoving the kid out of the way. Unfortunately, the knife continued on its path, which now meant it was on a different course of travel. Instead of heading for Roy’s back, it was now heading for Qrow’s neck. He felt the knife slap him almost, but Qrow was well aware what had really happened. Tumbling onto the ground, Qrow grabbed his neck where he figured the knife had landed, pulling his hand back to see bright red blood greeting him.

Jude did not take long to shift away from him. He engaged with Roy, forcing him to drop the bat with a series of slashes that ran along his arms and drove him out of the fight. “I like my enemies like my wine,” Jude declared, glowering at Roy. “I let them breathe, for a moment.”

Qrow ignored his open wound, grabbing his scythe and beginning to fight Jude once more. They tangled in a messy, confused fight that Qrow soon realized he was losing when Jude continually began to pile on more and more cuts, stabs and bruises on Qrow. Roy was all but out of the fight, and the others couldn’t even begin to help him. It was all down to Qrow and his scythe. He began to swing once more, but suddenly he was on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky as his head spun.

Jude loomed over him, manipulating the knife around with a clear flair that he had known to expect from the man. He knelt down, knife in his hand as Qrow tried and failed to conjure up the strength to get up. “It would appear your bad luck has finally run out, my old friend,” Jude said, turning Your Eternal Reward around and quickly slitting Qrow’s throat. His Aura could not help him from even this – the fight had taken too much out of it.

Qrow could do nothing but stare at the sky as he choked on his own blood, powerless to do anything to help his family and friends. He only hoped that Ruby and Yang could forgive him. Maybe one day, Raven would forgive him too. Slowly but surely, the world grew cold as his vision became dark and blurry. If anybody wept for him, he did not hear it.

* * *

Ruby found herself unable to avoid the chaos of the combat. She thought she could track everyone and ensure that her friends were able to fight effectively, but helping Zoya fight Suka was taking so much of her effort it was impossible to keep track of anything other than her foe. Suka was fighting with such an intensity, such hatred, it shocked Ruby. The two traded words, but in the madness Ruby couldn’t figure out what they were saying. She was sure the vitriol was mutual, given the tears in Zoya’s eyes that flew with each swing of her scythe, every time she racked her bolt, or shoved a cartridge in. She tried to help Zoya out as much as she could, but this fight was increasingly not one she could be involved in. Ruby paused just as Suka and Zoya bounced their weapons off one another, each one panting heavily.

“You’ve grown stronger,” Suka said, gnashing her teeth as blood seeped out from her gums. “Such a shame you could not be this strong when I killed Mikhail Spartakovich and Nikolai Sergeivich.”

“_Fuck you!_” Zoya screamed, swinging her scythe madly at Suka. Ruby began to assist, firing off rounds from Crescent Rose to force Suka to defend and keep herself open and vulnerable during the swing. The two clashed in a flurry of blades and hammerheads, as Suka’s tattoos glowed with each strike. It seemed she was using them to amp up her own natural strength to make every hit hurt that much more. Suka changed gears, no longer content with just attacking Zoya. She swung her hammer at Ruby, knocking her down with a sharp pain that enveloped her back. A shot rang out, accompanied by a resulting cry from Zoya.

Ruby’s head felt in a daze as gunshots and blades pinging against one another filled her ears. She blinked slowly, trying to figure up from down as Suka stood over her, a cocky smile on her face as she worked the bolt of her rifle. The Dust cartridge ejected violently, smoking as it flew out and clattering against the concrete. Ruby groaned, trying to move away, do _something_ to save herself from this madwoman, but her body refused to cooperate. Suka took her rifle and struck Ruby in the face with the buttstock, laughing cruelly as she did so. In an instant, she had transformed her weapon from rifle to maul, testing the weight in her hands as she looked down on Ruby, pure malevolence in her eyes.

“Your silver eyes would look great in a jar,” Suka crooned, smiling at her with that same wicked look on her face. “Traitor’s Lament has given me four pairs in my collection. When I am done here, I’ll have six. Maybe I should add your kneecaps to my collection too?”

She raised the maul high, her tattoos glowing again as she began to bring the hammer down. A blur appeared before Ruby, and just as Suka swung down, her momentum was stopped dead cold by an ice copy of Blake, who had appeared to protect Ruby. Vulnerable with her maul caught in ice, Suka could do nothing to stop Blake from attacking her with Gambol Shroud, a veritable flurry of whirlwind attacks that had Ruby in awe as she found the strength to get up.

A second wind came, and just as Suka had turned her maul around and hit Blake, Ruby reengaged with her. Zoya’s rifle began firing as well, just in time to keep Suka off-balance. Suka was definitely one of the hardest opponents Ruby had ever faced to date – not just because her Semblance gave her superhuman strength and heightened reflexes, but she was incredibly skilled. She wielded her warhammer with ease, and her rifle skills were nothing to sneeze at. Every time Ruby thought she had an opening, Suka closed it immediately and delivered punishment upon Ruby for ever thinking she had a shot.

Zoya charged in with a war cry, swinging at Suka with her bayoneted rifle as the two got into a fight all their own, ignoring Blake and Ruby. Bad move on Suka’s end – that only gave them room to coordinate an attack on her. Blake utilized her ribbons to trip Suka as Ruby cast forth a devastating downward strike while Suka was on the ground. She saw Suka’s Aura shatter, a clear sign she was in danger. They could stop her here and now with this.

However, she quickly regained her footing and swept them off their feet with her maul. One of the men called out to retreat, and despite the clear rage in Suka’s face as she shoved new rounds in, she followed them. Suka fired rounds at Blake, Ruby and Zoya the entire time to make sure they wouldn’t pursue, not that Ruby wanted to. She shakily got up, using Crescent Rose to keep herself steady. Roy ran over to Zoya, his arms bleeding profusely as they exchanged mutual surprise that the other was so badly beaten up. Where was everyone else? Ren and Nora looked alright, if shaken up and recovering. Pyrrha seemed to be exhausted, kneeling on the ground with her shoulders heaving. Oscar was no worse for wear, surprisingly enough. Weiss maintained her usual stoic look, a poise she had expected from her. Blake was right next to her, clutching her bicep in pain. So far so good.

“_Ruby!!_”

Yang’s voice broke through like a brick thrown into a window, a shrill, panicked tone to her that Ruby hadn’t heard before in her life. She blinked, looking for Yang. It was when she saw her kneeling over Qrow, who laid on the ground, that she realized something was very, very wrong. She dared to shuffle towards them, but her heart sank when Yang looked up at her with tears in her eyes. It was at that point she saw the blood that had poured out from Qrow’s neck, a result of the wound he had sustained. She felt her eyes grow wide as a sob slipped out, and before Ruby knew it, her knees hit the ground as her hands flew up to her mouth. Yang inched her way over, wrapping Ruby in a hug as the two faced the grim and terrible reality.

Uncle Qrow had really died. There was nothing they could do to save him, for even from here Ruby could tell his body had lost all life. Blake was next to hold Ruby, followed up quickly by Weiss. Soon, nearly everyone had smothered the two sisters, as if protecting them from the negative emotions that preyed upon them. There was so much they were supposed to do together. Ruby couldn’t fathom going on without Qrow – who was supposed to guide them now? Who would keep them straight going forward? It dawned on Ruby that, eventually, something like this was going to happen. She would have had to have faced her family and friends dying at some point. She just wished that it didn’t have to be this soon.

“Ruby,” Yang asked through teary eyes, “what do we do next?”

Ruby sniffed back every tear she had let out, rubbing her eyes. “We go to Atlas,” she declared. “_All_ of us. Nobody else is dying on my watch.”

Yang nodded, rubbing her nose and standing up. “Alright… okay,” she muttered, letting out an exhausted breath. “Alright. Let’s fucking do this. For Uncle Qrow.”

“For Uncle Qrow,” Ruby agreed.

Oscar – or Ozpin, if he had decided to return – stayed silent on their way to the border checkpoint. Ruby wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear whatever Ozpin had to say anyway. For better or worse, all of her friends remained silent as well, with Blake only offering a gentle squeeze of her hand as they set off as Weiss put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. Pyrrha kept close to Yang, while Zoya and Roy hung back to give them space.

All that stood in front of them now was the Atlesian checkpoint. The concrete structure stood well over twenty feet tall, probably as an anti-Grimm measure. Loudspeakers dotted the line, which thankfully for them was relatively short. They could definitely get in with their numbers. And, unfortunately, a bit easier now that they were minus one. It was a bittersweet element to the assessment Ruby made of the situation, and she had to admit she wasn’t entirely sure if she could stand even going up to the checkpoint without Qrow at her back.

Still, the presence of the Atlesian military standing guard along the zig-zag line, as well as on top of the building itself, made walking away nearly impossible. She didn’t want to tangle with them today, and thus they stood in the line, inching forward every time the loudspeakers crackled to life, a hollow, echoing _“Next”_ emanating from them as soul after soul disappeared into the building for a few minutes. She saw some come out, each one looking dejected and heartbroken.

Yang had managed to become head of the line, standing in front of a dark red steel door that was the entrance to the checkpoint. An Atlesian guard stared at them with cold, scrutinizing eyes, indifferent to anything that he didn’t deem a security threat.

_“_ _Next.”_

The door opened, and in through it Yang went. Ruby felt her heart pounding. A thousand possibilities ran through her mind. What if they uncovered the fakes? What if somehow, someway, the people they had just fought were waiting on the other side in Atlas, and they would kill Ruby and her friends the minute they passed? The door slammed shut just as Yang went through, surprising Ruby and causing her to jump. The guard glanced over at her, suspicious of something. Well, she wasn’t in the wrong, it’s _natural_ to be nervous when this many armed people are around – right?

_ **“** _ _ **Next.”** _


	29. Welcome to Atlas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teams RWBY and PNR, now sans Qrow, cross the Atlesian border checkpoint.

The first girl was one with long, blonde hair. Her ID card identified her as Raye Livi, a student of Haven Academy. She must have decided to forgo her uniform for today. She was born in Mistral, and her ID card did appear correct. Blonde hair, lilac eyes. Height appeared to be correct.

“Your ID card does not match,” he said. “The weight is wrong.”

She shrugged. “There’s a lot of good food in Argus, can you blame me?”

“What is your reason for visiting Atlas?”

“Study,” she replied. “I have an education visa.”

The girl slid over another document. He unfolded it, scrutinizing the piece of paper for any inaccuracy. Standard four month stay. Specialization in Grimm hunting, as to be expected from a student of Haven. All seemed to be in order. He put her passport over a stamping machine, marking it “Approved” and handing it back to her along with her visa.

“Keep on top of your studies,” he advised. She nodded, thanked him and left the room. “Next.”

* * *

Sal Flae. Former student of Beacon. Black hair with red tips, silver eyes. She smiled a lot, but there was an anxiety and worry behind her smile. He had seen it a lot. She looked young – perhaps it was just nerves, or maybe it was something more sinister. She rocked back and forth on her heels as he studied her documents, causing the floorboards to creak and groan.

“What is your reason for visiting Atlas?”

“Travel,” she said, still smiling.

That was interesting. He glanced up at her, wondering how confident she was in that answer. “This says you are visiting family. Which is it?”

Her smile faded, and she blinked a few times. “W-well, uh, yeah, I’m traveling to see my family. They live in Atlas.”

He looked back at her passport. She lived in Vale. “You are not an Atlesian citizen.”

“Well, n-no,” she said. “But my parents moved to Atlas a few years ago. I went to Beacon!”

“I see,” he said. “The height does not match.”

“Oh, they always get that wrong,” the girl laughed. “I keep telling them not to measure my heels!”

He looked over at her. She was much shorter than the passport indicated. Well, it wasn’t the first time the Vale authorities got something wrong. He stamped her passport with an “Approved” mark and handed it back to her, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. “Enjoy your stay in Atlas,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Weiss Schnee. He hadn’t even known she had left. Well, he would probably get in trouble – a lot of it, actually – if he dared to tell Weiss Schnee that she could not come back in because there was no record of her leaving.

“Go on through,” he said, without even bothering to mark her passport. “Welcome back home, Miss Schnee.”

* * *

The first lad was a young one, _very_ young come to think of it. He was a returning Atlesian citizen, Bran Ross given name. Apparently he had left to do some sort of temporary work in Argus. He looked the type to do some sort of menial work – good, the maintenance droids were acting up again. He could fix them.

“There is no record of you leaving Atlas,” he said to the boy.

“Uh… I… I don’t know why that is,” the boy said.

“Who sent you to work in Argus? I will sort it out with them.”

The boy gulped. “The Ministry of Labor. I’m doing part-time mechanical work with them.”

He typed the boy’s name into his computer, sending off a search request for the Ministry’s records. Time to wait. He observed the boy through the glass, watched him regard his space with a strange curiosity. He didn’t seem too anxious – perhaps a rough life in the mechanical shop caused him to act this way.

The printer began to shoot off a message for him. It was from the Ministry of Labor. It confirmed they had sent Bran Ross to do work in Argus and that they were expecting his return for his next assignment. All in order, then. He slid the passport over and stamped it, handing it back to him. “Welcome back home, Mister Ross,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

She had bright red, almost orange hair, and an anxiety that betrayed her overzealous, confident nature. Her ID said she was named Umber Vio, from Mistral on holiday, but her travel visa identified her as Umber Vilo.

“These names do not match,” he said.

“Well, they _should,_” she said, frowning.

He stared back at her, his expression unchanging. “They do not. Which one is correct?”

She snatched the documents back, frowning. “Oh, those stupid clowns at the office got my name wrong on the visa! They do this all the time!”

“I see,” he said.

This was a difficult choice. Protocol dictated that he was not to approve anyone whose documents did not match. And yet, her outrage was genuine, and he did not think that she had ill intent. However, he risked his job going against protocol, and this was a good, comfortable job that provided not just for him, but for his family. Finally, and with a heavy sigh, he marked her passport with an “Approved” stamp. “Cause no trouble in Atlas,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Kuchinashi. That was a name he had not heard in a longtime. Skyler Kobe was from the cursed village, long ago, but it seemed he had been traveling since then. It looked like all was in order. Name matched, weight matched, height, reason for visiting, etc. etc. etc. He didn’t even need to call a ministry or two for this one.

“Enjoy your stay in Atlas,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Celeste Fleur had something off about her. The picture showed she wore a bow, a strange accessory and not one he knew was approved for state photographs such as on passports and the like. She was incredibly nervous, even more so than most people would be at a border checkpoint. He determined she was hiding something.

“Remove your bow,” he said.

“It’s a religious item,” she replied.

“What religion?”

“Mine. I know General Ironwood. He wouldn’t like it if he heard I was harassed at the border.”

He looked back at the passport. Atlesian citizen. He had no reason to deny her, even with the strange bow. Knowing that she knew the General definitely made him unwilling to seek further conflict. He sighed, stamping the passport. “Welcome back home, Miss Fleur,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Something about Caitlyn Gundy was incredibly familiar to him, but he just couldn’t place his finger on it. There was something about her intense green eyes that he regarded as interesting. Maybe he had seen her before – she was an Atlesian citizen, after all. “Welcome back home, Miss Gundy,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Jazz Mynn was very anxious. He couldn’t figure out why – she was escaping the hell of Vale to get back home. He debated asking her if she had something to hide, but in the end, decided against it. Her silver eyes seemed like they had seen enough for today, and she looked like she needed a nap. “Welcome back home, Miss Mynn,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Last visitor of the day. It felt like he had gone through a smattering of unusual people, but this one was the strangest of them all. He had the world’s cockiest attitude about him, an irreverence that displeased him. He desperately wanted to reach over the desk and start strangling the man.

“What is your reason for visiting Atlas?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, education thing. I got a visa.”

The man slid over a visa. It was not an education visa. “This is a work visa. What work are you doing?”

“Oh, did I say education? I meant work, yeah. I’m gonna be doing railroad stuff, yeah, that’s it.”

He looked at the man’s passport. “The names do not match. Who are you?”

“Uh, I’m R-Mason Hunter. Yeah.”

“You are a very suspicious individual, Mr. Hunter. Or should I call you Mr. Mahogany? Since that is the other name on your work visa.”

The man craned his neck to try to see through the glass better and glean a look at documents. “Wait, crap, did I – okay, look, listen fella, you gotta take pity on me, man.”

He arched his eyebrow at the offender. “And why is that?”

“Because over there,” he pointed to Atlesian soil just beyond the concrete walls, “is a beautiful girl waiting for me, yeah? And she is gonna fuckin’ _hate_ it if I ain’t there.”

“Why should I care about your lover?”

“Because her name’s Winter Schnee, get it? So if you don’t let me through, well, hell, she might come and get me her damn self.”

For a moment, he doubted the veracity of this claim. But… well, he would not trifle with the Schnees. Sighing, he stamped the man’s passport, handing it over to him. “I had better see Winter Schnee out there when I take my break,” he said. “Next.”

* * *

Roy stepped out of the inspection room triumphantly, holding his hands high in the air as if he was a returning champion to the ring rather than someone who had just gotten through Atlesian border security. Ruby watched Zoya roll her eyes, shaking her head at the entire affair. “Ha-hey, local silver tongue extraordinaire here!” he said, stretching his back out dramatically and giving an exaggerated sigh. “Yup, just another day being awesome. You know how it is.”

“Glad to see you haven’t been arrested,” Weiss said, ice-cold. “We should get going before someone sees us all together.”

Ruby glanced back at the building, watching the inspector step out. He seemed to stare right at them, his brow furrowing. “What’s he doing?” she asked.

They looked over at him as Atlesian guards began to head over. It looked like he was talking to them. “Aw, shit, I forgot,” Roy said. “Yeah, uh, I might have said your sister was dating me, Weiss, so we should go, like, _now._”

“You did _what?!_” Weiss demanded.

“Stop them!”

Ruby broke into a sprint, with her friends and family close behind. Someone had gotten on the loudspeaker, ordering the Atlesian guards to block the exits and make sure they didn’t leave. Yang shouted out an unguarded exit on the right, and like a pack of Grimm, they rushed for it even as the sound of a dozen boots stomped behind them. Blake was first through the door, ramming into it with her shoulder and out to the cold Atlesian air, where snow was already falling. However, she – and everyone behind her – stopped dead in their tracks when they saw what was on the other side.

Two full squads of Atlesian soldiers stood there, weapons at the ready, with two mechs for added defense. The leader, a captain by the looks of it, aimed her pistol at Ruby and her friends, silently ordering them to stand down. Ruby looked out to her friends, each one with the same dejected look on their face. They were thinking the same thing – there was absolutely no way that they were going to fight their way out of this one.

“It’s okay,” Weiss said, “I’m a Schnee. They won’t hold us for long.”

With that, they allowed themselves to be arrested. The captain did not treat them poorly – in fact, she didn’t even put them in handcuffs. They were escorted into waiting vehicles with no windows, where after about a ten minute drive they were taken to some sort of facility. Weiss told them that it wasn’t a prison. So, maybe things were looking up. Maybe they could find actual help in Atlas.

They were taken into a large, ornate meeting room where the mahogany table seemed to dominate the space. Chairs with tall backs lined the table on both sides with fine red leather upholstery, a tea set placed in the middle of the table with accompanying sugar, cream and lemons for those who wanted to modify their tea. Ruby looked down at the carpet to see it was a deep blue, like the ocean between Mistral and Gorizont. Portraits of Atlesian military and political leaders dominated the walls, with a massive one at the head of the room portraying Atlas’s current King and the royal family on it. The troops escorting them ordered them to take seats, which they did.

After several agonizing minutes of silence, General Ironwood came in, returning the salutes his men gave him. “Dismissed,” he declared, to which the soldiers left the room, closing the doors behind them. “Well, Miss Schnee, I’m glad you and your friends made it across. So, where’s that old _bastard_ Qrow Branwen?”

“General Ironwood,” Weiss said, “there is a _very_ good reason for this-”

“I’m sure. Answer me.”

Ruby gulped, afraid to even try to speak up. Qrow had talked about General Ironwood like one of the best friends he ever had. So what was he doing greeting them like this? Truth be told, she was terrified, but she swallowed her fear and opened her mouth anyway. “Uh… um… General, sir? Hi, I’m Ruby Rose, Qrow’s niece. Um… he’s… dead.”

The General’s face softened and he blinked, clearly taken aback. He furrowed his brow at her, looking at Ruby curiously. “I… he’s what? That can’t be right. You must be mistaken, maybe-”

“It’s true,” Yang said, undoubtedly holding back tears. “He’s over there, about a mile from the checkpoint in a pool of his own blood.”

“I… my God, I’m so sorry, if I had known, then…” the General drew a sharp breath, looking away and closing his eyes as if steeling himself. When he turned back to look at them, any hint of hurt or emotion that had been in his eyes was gone.

“Alright, which one of you is Ozpin hiding in?”

All eyes turned to Oscar, who merely stared at the floor. He sighed, pushing back his chair and standing up, though he refused to lift his head up. “I… We are Ozpin, I guess. I don’t know.”

“I see,” the General said, his expression unchanging. “Alright. Well, the good news is the Relic is safe. The bad news is I can’t possibly get it to your hands, not unless I know more about what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked, shrugging. “We’re trying to stop Salem from destroying the world.”

“And I’m doing my duty to my country,” General Ironwood said, narrowing his eyes. “I want to know how Qrow died, and I want to know who’s standing in your way.”

Ruby sighed, looking over to Yang. It looked like Yang was exhausted, going off the way her head lolled about and hung low, her shoulders dropping so low it was almost like they had popped out of their sockets. Ruby felt a lump form in her throat, trying desperately to keep it down in case it became a corporeal expression of the anguish she was feeling.

“I… I didn’t get a good look,” Yang admitted. “I… think he was killed by Headmaster Judas L’Etranger.”

“Haven’s Headmaster?” General Ironwood asked, arching an eyebrow. He looked suspicious. Why wouldn’t he? For all he probably knew, the Headmaster was an ally.

Ruby nodded. “I… I don’t really know how to explain it. We saw him dead in Haven, but he was alive here, and he was fighting us. He joined up with Salem’s people.”

He rubbed his chin, starting to pace around the room. “Tell me more. Who all works with Salem that you know of?”

The gang relayed the people they knew of – sans names of course, since they didn’t know them other than Cinder’s people and Suka – describing the strange people and how they fought, the Semblances they used. Through it all, the General’s mood only worsened, until he was practically shaking his head and muttering with every new update.

“Alright, revision to my earlier statement,” he finally said when they had finished talking. “Bad news is, you’re _not_ getting the Relic. Good news is, I won’t stop you from trying… shall we say, _other_ methods to obtain it.”

“I don’t get it,” Roy said.

“Technically, you have all illegally immigrated into Atlas – yes, even you, Weiss – but I suppose technically, there’s also a chance that there was some mishandled paperwork. I know a gentleman who’s very eager to help Ozpin do what he needs to, strictly off the books. Is that understood?”

Ruby blinked. It didn’t seem like anyone but Zoya knew what he was talking about. Was she supposed to have figured this out? The General got on his radio, asking for somebody named Gabriel to enter. A pair of massive doors just behind them opened, and through them stepped a man clad in all-black tactical gear, a knife strapped to his chest. His brown skin was smooth, but on his face he had many scars and a neatly-trimmed goatee, with dark eyes that, to Ruby, looked like they could see through any facade. Atop his head was a similarly black beanie, reminding Ruby of the same hat that Professor Degroot once wore.

“General, thank you for allowing me to handle this,” he said, introducing himself as Gabriel Blackpool with his rough voice. “I hope you kids know you have caused me a _hell_ of a lot of trouble today.”

“It was their idea,” Roy immediately said, pointing to Ruby and the others.

“Shut up,” Gabriel growled. “None of you clowns should have been able to get past the border guards, but you’re lucky they bought _most_ of your incredibly stupid stories and couldn’t figure out your IDs were forgeries. Not everybody else in Atlas is going to be so kind, do you get that? So, until I can very kindly unfuck this entire situation for you, _we_ are taking a little field trip.”

Weiss sighed, looking rather despondent. “Not to an Atlesian military prison, I hope.”

“Of course not,” Gabriel said, his tone softening. “We’re going to one of my safehouses.”

* * *

The safehouse that Gabriel led them to was a condo within the inner city. It was just close enough to downtown that Weiss could identify individual neighborhoods and caution them on exactly which ones to avoid. The staff inside Gabriel’s condo building stared at them as they passed through, no doubt regarding their roughly-assembled, wounded team with a certain level of suspicion. He told the team to ignore their staring, bringing them up to the condo via elevator. It was a corner unit, situated with a perfect overlook of the major Atlesian shopping center in the central downtown district, with a distinct modern black and white style to it. Paintings that reflected a clearly romantic style dotted the walls, some finished, others halfway, and yet others barely even with two brush strokes on it. A simple, cube-like bookshelf was on the wall with books that Ruby didn’t even recognize the genre of, much less hope to understand the titles.

“There’s only two bedrooms,” Gabriel said, placing the keys to the condo on a hook near the door. He took off the long black cloak that he had worn on the way there as well, placing it on a coat hanger that was just to the right of the hooks for his keys. “The rest of you will have to occupy the couches or the floor, I don’t care which. And _no smoking._ I can smell it on at least one of you, if I catch a whiff of it in here, heads will roll.”

Ruby nodded – she wouldn’t have a problem abiding to that restriction. As she headed in further, Ruby took note of how improbably clean the condo was, from immaculately dusted tables to a carpet that looked like it had never seen anything mar its white surface in its life. The remotes to the television were arranged neatly in a sidebag attached to the wide couch, each one labeled with its exact purpose. It looked like one was for the actual TV, while another one controlled a sound system. There was an easel set up near the window, alongside a pair of binoculars hung up by a hook in the wall.

She wandered into the kitchen next, primarily to get something to drink – her throat had been dry and scratchy ever since getting to the checkpoint and there was no time to find anything to drink. The glasses in the cabinets had all sorts of variations – tall and thin, short and stout, half-pint glasses for alcoholic drinks, shaker tumblers for the same purpose – but right now, all she cared about was having _something._ She grabbed a cup at random, turning on the tap to fill it with water. On the counter, Ruby couldn’t help but notice a spice rack with a grand assortment – some of which Ruby had never even heard of before. A coffee machine was nestled in a corner next to a Mistral press in case someone didn’t quite want preground beans for their coffee. Gabriel strolled into the kitchen, barely even glancing Ruby’s way.

“Good, I was about to ask if you kids wanted something to drink,” he said. “Hungry? You better not eat _all_ of my food, but I’ll make sure to order some things in the meanwhile.” Gabriel opened one of the lower cabinets, pulling out a heavy iron pan.

“Oh, uh… thank you,” Ruby said.

Ren came in just as Gabriel had begun assembling flour, salt and other various ingredients together, placing them in a neat row on his countertop. “The paintings are exquisite. Who’s the artist?”

“I am,” he replied, grabbing a mixing bowl and combining some of the ingredients. “It’s a hobby. Do me a favor, tell your friends to get some paper and pencils – they’re in the hutch next to my easel – and write down everything you know, what you intend to do, and how you intend to do it. I should be done cooking by the time you’re all done.”

Well, may as well, right? What else was there to do? Ruby followed Ren to the hutch, where just like Gabriel had said there were sheets of paper and sharpened pencils ready for them to use. She moved almost like a zombie, shuffling from one part of the room to another. The true gravity of Qrow’s death was hitting her now. As she looked up, seeing the worried expressions and tension-filled bodies of her friends, Ruby realized they were _all_ feeling it. Ruby’s eyes passed over Blake, only to come back when she saw Blake was looking right at her. Her eyebrows were downcast, as if she was regretful about something. She blinked once, getting up and immediately wrapping Ruby in a tight hug.

“Blake,” she said quietly, “what if people see?”

“I don’t care,” Blake whispered. “You’re in pain. I want to help you in any way I can.”

Ruby felt her eyes well up with tears, which did not help when Blake began to softly stroke her hair. It was a silent reassurance that Blake would never leave her, which honestly Ruby believed she needed right now. She found herself returning the embrace, her head falling into Blake’s shoulder as the tears began to roll down her face. Blake’s long hair and the fur lining of her jacket mixed together on her cheek, comfortably soft like the best pillow she had ever laid her head against. Blake had a warmth to her that Ruby wasn’t sure she had ever felt before, and the way she practically clutched on to Ruby made her feel safe. Right now, the only thing that mattered to Ruby was that Blake was holding her, silently telling her it was all going to be alright.

She became acutely aware of Yang crying next to her as well. She dared not open her eyes, afraid that if she saw Yang crying again it would just start an endless cycle that she would be unable to escape from. Ruby heard people shuffling around – whether it was Weiss, Pyrrha, Nora or maybe even Zoya, she couldn’t tell – no doubt moving over to Yang and comforting her much the same way Blake was with Ruby right now. She felt Blake gently rubbing her back, no doubt a method to help her calm down. She wondered if anyone was doing the same for Yang.

Finally, Ruby opened her eyes again, gently pushing Blake off and coming face to face with her.

“You good?” Blake quietly said.

Ruby could only nod, taking a deep breath as she swallowed yet another lump that had formed in her throat. Blake cupped Ruby’s face in her hand, wiping away one of the tears that still remained on her cheek before letting her hand slide off as she stepped back to the chair she had claimed. Yang’s shoulders heaved, before she sighed and raised her head up. Her eyes were red and puffy from sobbing, but she shook it off as if it was nothing.

At the head of their little gathering stood Oscar, looking very nervous and anxious. “Uh, he… he wants to talk.”

“Not fucking interested,” Yang shot back.

“Please,” Ozpin said, as a flash overtook Oscar’s eyes for a moment. “Accept my most sincere condolences. I… Qrow was one of the best friends I’ve ever had in my life.”

Ruby sighed, nodding. “Thank you, Ozpin. But… why speak up now?”

“What makes you think we _want_ your opinion?” Yang asked, a fiery aura emanating from her. “_You got him killed!_”

Ozpin’s shoulders tensed up, and he bit his lip as he avoided Yang’s death glare. Ruby was sure if anybody could kill someone just by looking at them, Yang would have that power. “Yes, you’re right. I did. I have done nothing but get friends and family killed, because of my interference. I won’t be interfering in your journey any longer.”

“Well, wait,” Pyrrha said, holding out a hand. “If you don’t talk to us, how do we know where to go for the other Relics?”

“Oscar will know everything,” Ozpin explained. “Believe me, if he doesn’t already, he will very soon. It has been an honor working alongside you all, and I wish you luck in your future.”

Well, that really settled it. Another flash, and Oscar returned to normal. He said he definitely knew where the Relics were now, even if he didn’t quite have all the words to adequately explain it. For now, it seemed like things would be going right back on track.

“Come on,” Zoya said, straightening out the paper on her leg. “Let’s get to work.”

Slowly, they settled into trading notes and starting on their various lists. Zoya wrote down what could accurately be called a dossier on Suka, complete with sketches of her and her weapon, Traitor’s Lament. Blake delivered a similar document about Adam and the White Fang, who she maintained were still working with Salem. Pyrrha had compiled notes about Neo, a nebulous figure within Salem’s camp. Oscar, using Ozpin’s memory, gave them details about the large man they had faced, Hazel Rainart. Yang gave them an account of what Raven had told her and Blake, as well as the things she had observed fighting the various people aligned with Salem. Ren, Nora and Weiss each submitted proposals for various strategies and other observations.

Roy gave them a sketch of someone that he explained was supposed to be Salem shooting herself in the head, with a speech bubble showing her saying “Blah blah blah.”

“You spent an hour drawing this?” Zoya asked, staring at him incredulously.

“I had to decide how stupid to make her look,” Roy said, leaning back and smiling wide.

“Fantastic,” Weiss said, rolling her eyes. “Not only are you not taking this _seriously,_ you’re _wasting time._”

He shrugged, taking his sketch back to admire it. “Listen, anyone would pay big bucks to see this hanging in a museum.”

“It looks like it was drawn by a kindergartner high on acid,” Gabriel chimed in, craning his neck to look at it as he passed. He placed a hot plate on the coffee table in between them, with a large flat rectangle of bread that had browned bacon and thin, cooked onions topping it. “Eat. You kids need it.”

The bread had already been sliced into, reminding her of pizza back home in Vale, except this didn’t have the tomato sauce or cheese like she expected. Still, she was surprised by how delicious it was, happily chowing down on it and even going back for a second slice. They _all_ took second slices, something that Gabriel apparently took pride in as he looked over the notes and presentations they had made.

“Alright, ignoring this piece of trash,” he said, tossing away Roy’s drawing, “you guys got some good stuff here. This is the sort of thing I like to see. Good news or bad news first?”

They looked at each other, worried. Yet another roadblock? “Good news,” Ruby said.

“I can help you with getting the Relic, down to the smallest detail.”

“And the bad news?”

“We have to deal with the Atlesian military, and your buddy’s intel here about where it’s located is _way_ off, and that complicates things.” He paused, looking over their papers and rubbing his chin. “I’m going to go do some fact-finding.”

Ruby immediately got up, ignoring how lax the food had made her. “Should we come with you?”

“_No,_” he said harshly, scowling at her. “Stay here. We haven’t cleared anything up with your illegal immigration yet, so if you walk out that door, you _will_ be arrested and you _will_ be put in an Atlesian military prison for no less than six years. From what I understand, you’ve all been through a lot these past few days. Take a step back and relax, will you?”

She blinked, unsure how exactly to take this. He didn’t seem like he was being malicious – quite the opposite, really – but the way his intense eyes stared her down, Ruby believed that his threats weren’t empty. That, and the way Weiss tensed up the second he had said “military prison” led Ruby to think that maybe it was just better to stay here. “Okay,” she said. “I… yeah, we can do that.”

“Good,” Gabriel said, putting on his cloak. He pulled his hood up as he stepped out the door, but paused mid-way to turn to them, a slight smile on his face. “Do me another favor. Have some fun tonight. You kids deserve it.”


	30. Pomp and Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RWBY and the gang, along with Gabriel, begin the first part of their plan to seize the Relic from Atlas.

Ruby woke up in the morning to the sunlight spilling through the curtains, casting lines of bright sun onto the floor that crept up towards the bed. This was undoubtedly Gabriel’s actual bedroom, judging by the cologne on the dresser and assortment of beard trimming supplies. She didn’t much feel like opening the closet, but she believed that it contained a collection of clothing all in various shades of black, probably all with fancy names that she didn’t know. Stretching her shoulders out, Ruby yawned as she swung her legs off the bed, the cold hardwood floor greeting her. Through the window, she saw a fresh snowfall descending upon Atlas, covering the city in a blanket of snow.

Behind her, Blake groaned and murmured. “Can you turn the sun off?” she asked lazily, dragging the blankets over her again and covering every part below her neck that might have been exposed to the world.

Picking her Scroll off the nightstand, Ruby checked for any messages – there weren’t any that she hadn’t seen the night before – and also saw that it was nearly 9. “Oh gosh, we’ve got to get going!”

“Going _where?_” Blake groaned. “Just five more minutes…”

“Gabriel might be back by now!” Ruby said, throwing the covers off Blake, much to her chagrin. “Come on, get up!”

Blake groaned again, curling up and shivering as her ears went flat. Had they always done that? Ruby wasn’t sure. “I don’t wanna…”

The sound of something sizzling in the kitchen began to reach her ears. Maybe food would convince her to get out of bed. Ruby practically dragged Blake out, ignoring how limp she had decided to become. It was almost like dragging a liquid out of bed, but Ruby was able to rouse her awake regardless with as much grumbling as she expected. They headed out into the living room, where her friends had all gathered in the kitchen. The sound of forks and knives clattering against plates and each other could be heard, as well as conversations only partially interrupted by requests for food.

Ruby and Blake headed in to be greeted by a breakfast fit for a king. Gabriel had laid out pots of coffee and tea, with what looked like hot cocoa in the middle of it all. Bread, which Weiss gushed over as being freshly-baked that morning, was offered alongside butter, cheeses, jam, honey and a spread she didn’t recognize. Small sausages lined a plate in a circle that had Yang coming back for more. Ren and Nora couldn’t help but experiment with what looked like a mixture of whole-grain cereal, mixing it with yogurt, fruit and milk alternatively. How had Gabriel gotten the time to prepare all this, let alone cook it?

“Come on,” Gabriel said, gesturing to empty seats. “We’re going to need a lot of energy to get everything done.”

She and Blake took the seats offered to them, sandwiched in between Zoya and Pyrrha, both of whom were practically raving about the food. For Zoya, she had never had cheese that was this soft before, while Pyrrha couldn’t get enough of the jams offered.

“Did… you make all this yourself?” Blake asked, nibbling on some bread as she brushed errant locks of hair away from her face.

“Of course,” he said. “Granted, the jams I’ve had floating around for a while. But, yes, I made the bread myself.”

“You _have_ to give me this recipe,” Weiss said. “My mother’s bread was _never_ this good.”

Gabriel laughed, cutting off a piece of sausage from his plate. “Maybe later. Food first, then the mission.”

Ruby began poking at the food, trying various cheeses and jams, the latter of which wasn’t quite sweet enough for her liking. The bread had the perfect freshly-baked quality to it that Weiss was freaking out over, and when the butter was spread over it, the residual warmth from baking softened it up perfectly. Yang practically ordered Ruby to try the spread, claiming it was a chocolate and hazelnut mix. _This_ was the sort of thing she could get behind. Sweet enough to make her forget she was having breakfast, and impossible to resist. Ruby eagerly took a cup of hot cocoa, sipping on it as true comfort began to come over her. She looked around the table, from newcomers Zoya and Roy to old friends and family like Yang and Weiss, they were all _happy_ for once. They had all been able to take the time to slow down and remember what it was like to be human again, forget if only for a moment the war they faced and the struggles in front of them.

All good things had to come to an end, and their breakfast was no different. Gabriel took plates and dishes away to put in a dishwasher integrated to his cabinetry, calling on them to regroup in the living room. He took a whiteboard and set it up at the head of the room, his face turning from jovial to deathly serious. No doubt in preparation for their planning session, he took a black marker in his hand, popping off the cap and sticking it in the opposite end.

“Alright,” Gabriel announced. “I’ve been broadly briefed of the mission by General Ironwood and Major Schnee, so don’t waste your breath bringing me up to speed.”

He wrote down a series of letters that, to Ruby at least, made no sense – APF, WS, CSB. What did these mean? Were they code for something?

“You think these organizations will stop us?” Weiss asked.

“No, these people all have a vested interest in making sure the Relic does _not_ leave Atlas for any reason whatsoever. The Atlesian Police Forces are meant to stop common criminals, which we very much _are_ when we take it. The Whiteshirts don’t look too kindly on anyone who wants to mess with the Council’s grand plans – I presume the Relic is part of them.”

“Who the hell are these other guys, then?” Roy asked, turning his head from side to side as if that’d help him glean a better idea of the organizations.

“The Central Surveillance Bureau keeps tabs with their spycams disguised as maintenance drones, and I don’t think I need to tell any of you that the Atlesian Army, Maritime Services and Pilot Services won’t like us fucking around with the Relic either.”

Zoya sighed, shaking her head as she folded her arms. “It sounds like Gorizont. What’s the plan?”

Gabriel chuckled, drawing a line from the CSB straight up. “Weiss, you get to use your very special family background to convince the CSB that you can help them hunt down the dangerous terrorists that just immigrated into Atlas.”

Weiss blinked, raising an eyebrow. “And why on earth would I do that?”

“Wait, who’s he talkin’ about?” Roy asked.

“I’m talking about _you_ clowns,” he growled. “You’ll do it because at the exact same time, Ren and Nora are going to go to the police and tell them the CSB is trying to usurp their power with the excuse of terrorists abound. Finally, Yang and Blake here are going to get the local garrison to believe that the CSB is going to purge them, and the local cops are in on it.”

Blake’s eyes grew wide, and she began to blink. “This… sounds like the beginnings of a coup.”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Gabriel said, smiling. “That’s where the final part of this plan comes in. When we get them all in one place with their leadership, that’s when Roy, Zoya, Ruby, Pyrrha, and Oscar here all get up in nice new Atlesian uniforms and announce themselves to them as the Atlesian Security and Safety Corps with orders from King Preussblau to put an end to the obvious three-way civil war that’s about to kick off, which will have us taking the Relic and getting as far away from Atlas as humanly possible.”

As they looked over the diagrams, with names written out and lines drawn to link together people and assignments, Ruby had to admit that it sounded like a good plan. It was much better than her original plan of just finding the Relic and outright stealing it, anyway.

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “When do we start?”

* * *

The offices of the Central Surveillance Bureau was never a place Weiss went to – not willingly, anyway. She had been down here a few times in the past, primarily when she was a little girl accompanying Father or Mother on some sort of nebulous business with them. At the time, she thought it was just another boring adult place. Years later, she had realized the terrible truth of it. The CSB was concerned primarily with monitoring the people and ensuring that nothing escaped their watchful eye, another tool her family had for oppression and keeping dissent down.

Her status had not dwindled in the intervening time, it seemed. The secretaries and intelligence officers tensed up the millisecond they saw her, and conversations stopped dead in her tracks when she got in earshot. Even senior officers and generals commanded respect from Weiss. She scarcely needed to even ask – when a Schnee showed up in the CSB’s main office, they were taken straight to the top. Weiss was shown to the Director’s office, where a massive mahogany desk greeted her in a rather plain-looking office. Massive plate glass windows offered an excellent view of the city, lined with an ornate ice blue runner rug just before it. Apparently, the only actual decorative thought put into this room other than the rug were some potted plants here and there, tossed about as if by random.

“Miss Schnee,” the Director said, nodding as he stood to greet her. “A welcome surprise, to be sure. How have you been?”

“Fine,” Weiss replied, taking a seat and folding her hands in her lap. “I presume your organization is well aware that my return is _not_ accidental.”

The Director smirked, nodding. “Yes, we have noticed your recent arrival back in Atlas. Truth be told, we were rather concerned. Your-”

“There are terrorists working their way deep into Atlas’s core,” she said, keeping her face neutral and tone even.

Understandably, this declaration forced the Director to pause mid-sentence, with a look of shock and confusion on his face. He blinked several times, before composing himself. “That is a very… _unique_ assertion, Miss Schnee. If you don’t mind my asking, how do you-”

“Know about it? Do you _honestly_ believe that my departure from Atlas was a result of internal differences? Do you seriously take it at face value that I was publicly removed from the company and then disappeared mere days later, only to show up months later at the border?” Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes. “_Obviously,_ I have been assisting the King on a very serious matter, and these terrorists believe that my influence can help them to achieve their goals. I’ve infiltrated them using the exact same lies you apparently believed without question, and now that I’ve lured them into the trap? It’s time for _you_ to finish the job.”

“You must understand,” the Director said, furrowing his brow. “I need to confirm all this, of course, but-”

“Well, I suppose it’ll be confirmed when they first strike,” Weiss said, shrugging. “If only you had somebody who knew what they were planning, and exactly when and where they would attack…”

The Director dropped his stern look, immediately catching on to the implication Weiss was providing. He nodded, a grimace crossing his face. “Of course, and how lucky we would appear to be, Miss Schnee,” he said. “Perhaps I can put you with some of my best operatives, and we can confirm this?”

Weiss nodded, allowing herself to be escorted to another room. Time to put her acting skills to work. Thank goodness Father had insisted on her being such a varied student of the arts.

* * *

Ruby sighed, looking out the window of their room. Well, Gabriel’s room, technically. But, regardless, it was hers to use for now, and that’s what mattered. Probably. She didn’t really actually know, but she knew that they were heading into dangerous territory here. Weiss had already left to head to the Central Surveillance Bureau, while Nora and Ren had departed to the local police precinct. That only left Yang and Blake to move for their goal to talk to the military garrison.

To say Ruby was nervous for the safety of her friends – all of them – was somewhat of an understatement. Maybe as a way to help her alleviate the stress of it all, she had agreed to help Blake pick out a suitable outfit for getting in. Gabriel had said they would be on the lookout for people dressed like they had been when they crossed the border, and had taken the liberty of confiscating their old clothes and burning them somewhere.

“So, what do you think of this?”

She turned around, with Blake in a sweatervest combo that honestly looked a lot like the one she used to get into the White Fang meeting back when they were at Beacon. She had a small purple ascot, on top of a white dress shirt and a black vest with bright gold buttons. Her pants were skin-tight and black, like Ruby expected from her, with fairly conventional boots.

“It looks nice,” Ruby said, smiling. “Oh, your tie is – hold on.”

Ruby walked over as Blake paused, looking down at herself. She delicately fixed Blake’s ascot for her, since it had been cocked askew and quite frankly just didn’t look right. Smoothing it out, Ruby let her hand rest on Blake’s shoulder, trying to figure out if she needed to do more to fix it or if it was fine the way it was. Maybe a little bit more tucking on the other side. “There,” she said, patting it down again.

Unexpectedly, Blake slowly slipped her hand above Ruby’s, wrapping her fingers around her palm. “Hey, so… I just wanted to tell you, we’ll be fine,” she said quietly. “This isn’t the first time Yang and I have done this sort of thing.”

“What,” Ruby asked, laughing, “pretended to tell soldiers that people want to kill them?”

“No, I mean – you know what, nevermind,” Blake said, shaking her head. “I know you’re worrying about us. You don’t have to. I’ll come back, I promise.”

She smiled, but almost instantly something about the way Blake said that felt odd. _I’ll come back?_ What did that mean? She frowned, slowly blinking as she tried to rationalize the sentence in her head. Was Blake trying to compare herself to Jaune still? That didn’t make much sense. Then again, she had said a _lot_ that she wasn’t Jaune, and even Ruby admitted that most days. Nobody could really replace him, and yet… was Blake implying that she, unlike Jaune, would come back to her?

It looked like Blake had realized something was wrong, especially since Ruby’s hand had now fallen out of her own. The soft smile she had just a second ago was gone, replaced by a concerned expression. “Ruby? What’s wrong?”

“What does that mean?” Ruby found herself asking, well before she intended to even think about saying something.

“What does what mean?”

Suddenly, it felt as if Ruby’s mouth was cotton, and her eyelids began to rapidly flutter. Was her head pounding, or was it just her imagination? “What does ‘I’ll come back’ mean?”

Blake stared back at her, mouth agape. “That… I’ll come back?” she asked, shrugging. “I mean, I don’t really plan on being captured or anything, just that I’ll be coming back here.”

She searched for anything in Blake’s eyes that hinted at a potential lie, or some sort of bizarre subterfuge. All she could see in the deep hazel irises was deepening distress. Ruby realized that her own eyes were beginning to create tears, a strange aching arriving in her throat. She hadn’t expected this to bring up so many memories of Jaune, and judging by the dawning realization on Blake’s face, she hadn’t either.

“Oh my God,” Blake said as Ruby drifted away from her, a hand flying up to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Ruby, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s okay,” Ruby said quietly. What was that noise? Oh, wait, it was her own sobbing as her vision went blurry, a side-effect of the tears. She began to wonder if she really meant what she said after all. “I… uh, good luck, Blake.”

“Ruby, wait,” Blake said just as Ruby turned away. She could not be called back even if she wanted to. Ruby retreated to the bed, facing the window as if that would help her hide from her emotions. She heard Blake try to follow for a second, but the sound of Yang’s footsteps getting closer must have made her think twice.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Yang asked, apparently unable to even notice Ruby in pain.

Blake paused. She could clearly hear Blake shifting her weight, probably turning to leave. “Yeah, let’s go,” she said. Hurried steps. Maybe Blake had made a quick escape. Ruby didn’t blame her – if it wouldn’t kill her, Ruby would have jumped out of this window to get away from this. Yang had to be on to what was going on now, since she heard her sister approach cautiously. Before she knew it, Yang was right next to her on the bed, which creaked only slightly as she sat down on it.

Yang leaned over, just enough that Ruby could see her through what little remained of her peripheral vision. “Are you okay, Ruby?”

“No,” was all she managed to reply with. How could she possibly express the anguish, the despair, the intense sadness that was plaguing her heart right now? It was like trying to describe the color blue, or sing a song without lyrics. Was there even a way to do it? Ruby wasn’t sure, and sitting here trying to form words while in between heavy sobs wasn’t much helping. Yang must have deciphered the code, since she wrapped her arms around Ruby and held her tightly.

“I have to go,” she said. “Text me if you need anything, alright?”

“Okay,” Ruby said weakly. Yang soon departed, with Ruby alone with her thoughts and her terrible, terrible emotions. The flurry of confusing, distracting thoughts and clouded visions of the future danced in her head.

Nothing made sense to Ruby anymore. She saw a strange visage of her and Blake, somewhere in Remnant happily living together after this was all over. In the blink of an eye, Jaune had replaced Blake, as if he had never left Ruby in the first place. She sat here, soaking the pillow with her tears, trying to tell right from left and attempting to work out a logical solution to an inherently illogical problem. Every interaction she and Blake had ever had played over and over in her head, spliced with the same milestones she had reached with Jaune. The day Blake had told her how much she meant to her rolled through, with a cut that had Jaune asking her out at Beacon. A ghost of a sensation, Jaune holding Ruby tightly after she had nearly failed one of her most critical end-of-year tests at Beacon, reminded her of just a day ago when Blake had held her in her arms and stroked her hair. The same butterflies Ruby had in her stomach when she dared to creep across the armrest at the movie theater danced and raved within as she remembered what it was like to walk through Gorizont with Blake, an early morning light shining through her black hair and lighting up her smile even more.

How could she ever reconcile the two images in her mind? Why was Ruby so cursed, to be in love with a dead man, and so willing to wake up tomorrow morning and shout the mad declaration of utter devotion for Blake? What had happened in these past few minutes, when she had at first sought out any excuse to believe that nobody could ever love her again, only now to desperately want to run out the door to find Blake, and pull her back from her mission kicking and screaming? If she was so sure, so confident in her decisions, how was it that she was resisting the love Blake was offering?

How come right now, all she wanted was to feel Blake’s arms holding her tightly, the subtle smell of her flowery shampoo wafting off her hair, and hear her voice telling Ruby it was all going to be okay?

* * *

The garrison camp looked about as Blake expected it to, incredibly utilitarian and positively authoritarian. Predictably, the guards stopped them right outside the gates, suspicious to their intentions. When Yang and Blake announced they had solid information that the police and CSB were planning to purge them, they listened. They posed as traitors from their respective bureaus – Blake as a CSB agent with a conscience, Yang as a cop with more valor than sense – and with some clever database hacking done by Gabriel beforehand, anyone looking into them found what they wanted. They were escorted into the base commander’s office, held here with a guard outside the room until the CO himself could be found and summoned.

It was just enough time for Blake to wonder and debate about the argument – if it could even be called that – that she and Ruby had before she left. Blake didn’t know what had happened, right up until the tears began to flow from her face. She had no intention to keep comparing herself to Jaune, and yet it kept coming up. Now, she had gone and committed what felt like the gravest sin, daring to tell Ruby that she, unlike Jaune, would come back after a potentially deadly mission. It was enough to send her off-balance for this one, which so far she thought she had done a good job of covering it up under the guise of an anxiety-ridden intelligence agent in a fascist state.

However, she couldn’t fool Yang, and they both knew that.

“So, what did you say to her?”

Blake didn’t need to be a mindreader to understand the hidden implications. _How did you hurt my sister?_ If Yang hadn’t admitted similarly absurd feelings for her all the way back in Gorizont, Blake would have thought Yang was ready to murder her right here and now. Instead, this sentence seemed more like a resigned, probing question, meant to try and gain understanding rather than attempting to justify extreme violence.

“I fucked up,” Blake said quietly.

“Yeah, I kind of guessed,” Yang replied, irritation rapidly apparent in her voice. “_How?_”

She drew a sharp breath, already regretting her choice of dress. Atlesian people, especially these damned officers, _always_ kept their rooms too fucking warm. Blake wanted to roll her sleeves up, but she knew that no Atlesian person ever did that in their life. They probably needed to fill out seven different forms just to consider it. “I… I compared myself to Jaune,” she confessed. “I told her I’d be coming back.”

“I don’t-oh,” Yang said, a heavy sigh emanating from her mouth. “Yeah, I can… oof.”

Blake let out a huff of air, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. “Yeah. _Oof._”

They sat in silence for a while longer. What more needed to be said? The proof was right there – Yang had to have seen Ruby, had to have talked to her and seen how broken and unsettled Blake had left her. Who would have thought three little words would have had such an effect, hidden seven different meanings that Blake had never even considered? How cruel was she, to remind Ruby of one of the greatest losses she had ever endured in her life?

She had to get her mind off this. Blake desperately scanned the office for anything to distract her, find some way to turn her mind from the madness that was consuming her. Books, pointless. Drivel about Atlesian military strategy and history that no doubt had so many biases it was impossible to tell where the first part of the lies came from. Awards, meaningless. She didn’t care about them, and never would. Decorations, tacky. The art was mediocre at best, boring at worst. The officer didn’t have any personal trinkets or decorations on his desk – not even a picture of a family or something. Just heavy, dark-colored wood, papers that no doubt were of some importance to him, and some kind of map. Notepads laid scattered about, with pens collected in what she assumed was a spent Dust cartridge from some kind of Atlesian armored vehicle.

Eventually, the officer came in, only introducing himself as Colonel Onyx Adler. His uniform was immaculate, as expected. Grand epaulettes bore distinctive yellow piping on them, with a row of ribbons and medals. He sat down in the massive burgundy leather chair behind his desk, and folded his hands in front of him. “So,” he said, with a deep bass. “Tell me what you know.”

Yang smiled, folding one leg over the other. “My friend and I here figured out that the CSB and police want to get rid of you guys. They think you’ve gotten a bit too big for your britches, as they say.”

“Their hope is to curtail your influence and allow the Whiteshirts to more readily take control of state and military functions,” Blake explained, reciting lines that Gabriel had prepared for her. “They plan to do it under the guise of ineffectual military response to terrorists.”

“Terrorists?” Colonel Adler said, furrowing his brow. “But we haven’t gotten any word of terrorists in Atlas.”

Yang snapped her finger at him, nodding. “Bingo. It’s a ruse.”

“The CSB is conjuring the terrorist threat out of thin air. They believe that with a nonexistent response and the proper application of alternative facts, public opinion won’t even question removing the garrison entirely.”

Colonel Adler leaned forward, stroking his chin as he contemplated this. His dark brown eyes shuffled between staring at Yang and Blake, and the desk in front of him. Finally, he sighed, sitting back and letting his arms fall flat on his chair. “Alright, so let’s get down to it. How do we stop them from doing this?”

* * *

Meeting with the military had taken a lot out of Blake. She had spent half of the time worrying about her bow, afraid that at any second it could have slipped off and the ruse would be uncovered. Her mind constantly played visions of an eagle-eyed sergeant noticing her ears, followed up by Yang and Blake dying in a hail of bullets. Regardless of her anxiety though, she and Yang had survived, and now she could finally _relax._ Dinner tonight was light, another meal courtesy of Gabriel that made Weiss gush with excitement. She had to admit, it was heartwarming to see Weiss freak out this much over good, home-cooked food. Blake remembered the times they would go to a restaurant while at Beacon, and Weiss remained positively chilly towards the Mistral and Vale cuisines commonly offered. For the most part, it was just bread with various cold cuts, cheese and sausages offered for dinner, with a warm onion soup served as well. This latter dish turned out to be the star of the night, more or less emptied before even an hour was up.

Maybe better than being able to share good food with friends and family was knowing that she could finally take off this stupid bow, release her ears from the hell they had been encapsulated in all day. It was like a weight had been taken off her shoulders the second the smooth fabric came off, and a wave of relief washed over her. Dinner was over and done with soon enough, with an impromptu strategy meeting called right after. Gabriel sighed, rolling his neck as he sipped on a cup of tea. “So, good news. The military, CSB and police all bought the stories you guys sold them. Great job.”

Nora cheered, while Roy gave them a solid round of applause. Blake couldn’t tell if Roy’s clapping was sarcastic or not, but judging by the look on his face, probably not. “What’s the bad news?” Blake asked.

“We still have a ways to go. Tomorrow, we go back and give them more crumbs. Within the week, they should be ready to go to war with one another, which is what we want.”

Roy scoffed, knocking back what was left of the beer he had been drinking. “I dunno about you guys, but that doesn’t sound like bad news to me.”

“It _is_ bad news when we don’t have the Relic,” Gabriel reminded him. “We need to set the meeting point for these converging forces at the Relic’s location, which I’ve narrowed down to be at the Whiteshirt headquarters. Perfect place.”

“Is it really?” Weiss asked, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t think the Whiteshirts enjoyed that much power.”

Gabriel shrugged, taking another sip of tea. “I guess they’re more powerful than we thought. As long as you kids stay away from their patrols tomorrow, we should be fine and this can all go off without a hitch.”

May as well head off to bed. If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, a good night’s sleep was going to be worth it. The others began to settle into their evening routines as Ruby and Blake headed back to their room, immediately conjuring up feelings of dread for Blake. Ruby had acted so absurdly nonchalant during dinner, it made Blake fear what was going to come when the night came. Would she tell Blake it was all done and over? Kick her out? Or was there something else that she couldn’t imagine ahead?

Her feelings of madness-induced anxiety did not stop when Ruby remained uncharacteristically silent as they got ready for bed. Usually by now, they’d be talking about at least _something._ Maybe she’s just tired, Blake thought, trying to rationalize all of this. Maybe it was all okay, and she was worrying for nothing. Ruby still said nothing even as they got under the covers, and the lights went dark.

She didn’t know how long it had been before she heard Ruby shuffling around next to her. As close as they were on this bed, Blake could feel every movement. Ruby must have flipped herself over, since she began to feel the faint traces of Ruby’s even breathing cross her way. “Blake?”

Blake opened her eyes to see Ruby staring at her. The moon cascaded in through the window, enshrouding them in a deep blue glow that contrasted with the midnight black shadows in the room. “Mhm?”

“Why did you choose me?”

Her heart skipped eight beats at once. How could she describe this? Was there a way to put words to the intense joy, the warmth she had in her heart every time she saw Ruby? Were there words to describe how Ruby had taken a dull, boring life and filled it full of color, made every room glow like she exuded pure confidence and beauty everywhere she went? Her eyelids had been heavy like a loaded gun, but the second Ruby asked that, she could barely find a way to close them to even blink.

“Well,” Blake finally said, having decided to at least _attempt_ to answer Ruby, lest she alienate her even more, “there’s… I don’t know, you’ve been one of my best friends, Ruby. You’ve stood by my side even when I didn’t really deserve to have anyone stand with me. Every time I see you, it’s like there’s… this light. Ruby, you’re the kindest, most wonderful and most beautiful person I know, and not just, like, physically, I mean in every way I can think of.”

She saw Ruby look back at her. Was she unsure of herself? The way Ruby slowly blinked, wetting her lips as if she wanted to say something before thinking better of it could have meant she was. But maybe she just wasn’t ready for this. Hell, it wasn’t like Blake knew. She wasn’t a mindreader, but right now she really wished she was. “I don’t get it,” Ruby finally said. “Why do you think you don’t deserve anyone?”

Blake laughed, sighing heavily. “I… I don’t know. I mean, I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve stolen. I was part of the White Fang for _years._ I… I think a lot of people would disregard me on just that alone.”

“But that doesn’t make you a bad person _now,”_ Ruby argued. “You made some mistakes. We all do. I mean, I… I made a lot.”

“I guess I never really believed anyone else could ever fall in love with me. Not after Adam. I _really_ didn’t believe you could ever love me.”

Ruby glanced up at her, inching ever closer. By now, the whispers of breath brushed against Blake’s face. _She was so close. Just go for it._ Blake couldn’t force herself to do it. Every part of her cried out to just kiss Ruby right then and there, but her mind refused to cooperate. “Do you really believe that?” Ruby asked.

“I don’t know,” Blake admitted. “You… I don’t want to be rude, but you carry Jaune’s shoulder guards on you all the time. I thought that meant that maybe I wasn’t – and wouldn’t ever be – the girl for you.”

“Well, I mean…” Ruby said quietly, sighing. “I wear them because I don’t want to forget. All the fun times we had, the kisses we shared, and the light he brought in my life… I don’t want to let those go. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make new memories with you.”

Blake closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing. By the time the lump in her throat had cleared, her eyes opened only to see Ruby still there, her silver eyes reflecting the light in the room and practically glistening. “Ruby, I really want to kiss you right now. Is it okay if I do that?”

Ruby giggled, her smile only further serving to drive Blake wild. “You said something like that at the farm.”

“I meant it then as much as I do now,” Blake said quietly.

She nodded, taking a long, deep breath. Ruby’s silver eyes disappeared as she closed them, returning just a second later with the brilliant confidence Blake had always seen from her. “Okay.”

Blake’s cheeks heated up as it felt like all the blood drained from her face. Could she even blink? It felt like her eyes were drying up with the passing second. “R-really?”

“Yes,” Ruby said, smiling and nodding. “I want to kiss you, too.”

Stifling a nervous laugh, Blake smiled back. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was almost sure Weiss and Yang could hear it from the next room over. She swept back a rogue lock of hair that had fallen across her face as she and Ruby moved their heads closer to one another. Instinctively, she cupped Ruby’s face in her free hand just as their lips met, the taste of Ruby’s minty toothpaste rather refreshing. God, Ruby’s lips were so soft. She wanted to hold this kiss forever, wrap Ruby in her arms and never let go. Forget about the world, the war, throw caution to the wind and hold her.

Far too soon, they pulled back, wide smiles on both of their faces. Blake couldn’t help but laugh as she touched foreheads with Ruby, still cradling her cheek in her hand. “You’ve made me so happy, Ruby,” Blake said, almost whispering in case someone heard. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Blake,” Ruby said, draping her arm over her.

The two continued to hold one another, until finally they had wrapped each other up in their arms. Blake fell asleep clutching Ruby tight like a security blanket, eager for tomorrow if only for the opportunity to kiss her again when dawn came.


	31. Fall Weiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby gets an unexpected visit, while the plan does not go quite as intended.

Ruby opened her eyes to find that she was in white again. Just like back at the farm, she felt no weight, no rationality to hold on to and orient herself with. Just herself, and the limitless white void around her. Once again, she was in the domain of the God of Light, as He appeared before her once again.

“I am glad to see you again, Ruby Rose,” He said, folding His arms. “The progress you have made is excellent.”

She felt her shoulders drop. “Why me?” she asked Him. “How come I’m so special?”

“Because of your silver eyes,” He said. Ruby didn’t think that answer was particularly confident.

“You said my friends and I would survive. Did you forget about my Uncle Qrow, or could I have avoided that? Why did he have to die?

The God of Light sighed, and if He had a face, Ruby hoped it was full of regret. “I cannot change what has been set in stone. I am sorry.”

She shook her head, furrowing her brow. “That’s not good enough,” she replied. “I don’t get why my friends and family have to suffer! You gave us this world, and then abandoned it when Salem tried to ruin everything!”

“The world is larger than you realize,” He replied. “You are not the only girl who has suffered, or will suffer. Take Salem – she has suffered, and for her insolence, she paid the price. You would do well not to end up like her.”

“I _can’t_ be like her!” Ruby shouted. “I just want to live a normal life. That’s all I’ve _ever_ wanted, and that’s gone now! You said I would understand my journey in time, well, I don’t understand anything! I found wonderful friends, somebody I love, and I’m afraid none of them are going to live to see tomorrow. I can’t just sit back and be passive anymore!”

He tilted His head, looking down on her curiously. “Are you not already being proactive? You have traveled many miles from your home. You have taken up the mantle to protect people who cannot protect themselves. You have levied upon yourself burdens that you need not bear. Why do you think you are being passive?”

“Because I don’t understand what I’m supposed to be doing,” she said. “Nothing has made sense ever since I left Vale. Ozpin, Salem, you and your brother, the people trying to stop us… when does it all end?”

“It will end when humanity learns its lesson,” He said. “As I told you before, you _will_ understand your journey in time.”

“Does that mean anyone else will? Because I would love to have someone help me out with this.”

He paused. She hated it when that happened. “Everyone in your life fulfills a role,” He finally said. “Some are more tragic than others, I am afraid.”

She blinked back at Him. What was that meant to imply? She felt her eyes growing wide, as a gasp slipped out of her mouth. _No._ Not again. She couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – let that happen. Ruby had to have a real answer, here and now. “What does that mean?” she demanded.

He merely waved His hand, and slowly His image began to fade out as the white began to turn to black.

_“_ _What does that mean?!”_

* * *

She awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed in a panic. Her heart was pounding against her chest as short, rapid breaths filled her lungs. Ruby looked around, touching everything she could find in an attempt to reaffirm that she had actually come back down to reality. In an instant, Blake was next to her. It was still dark out – she must not have been asleep for long.

“Ruby?” she asked. Her touch involuntarily caused Ruby to jump again, almost smacking her for it. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Ruby muttered. She felt tears cascade down her face. “Blake, please promise me you won’t think I’m crazy.”

“What’s wrong?” God, she sounded so worried.

Ruby sniffled, trying to calm herself down enough to try to get actual words out. Blake did her best to comfort her, but without that crucial affirmation, Ruby wasn’t sure if she ever would come down from this. “Please, promise me,” she said quietly, finding herself burying her face in Blake’s shoulder.

“I would _never_ think that,” Blake said. “Please, tell me what’s going on?”

She shuddered, a final, heaving sob falling out as she pulled back to look Blake in the eyes. “Blake, I… I had a vision. The Gods we saw when we talked to Jinn, they’ve talked to me. I saw one of them after the farm, and I just saw one of them again, and he…” She started to cry again, afraid to even so much as utter the words. How could she? It felt like every time she got comfortable and safe, something awful happened.

“He what?” Blake asked gently, holding her hands and massaging her palms.

“He said… he said everyone in my life plays a role, a-and some are tragic. Blake, I’m scared. I don’t know what that means.” Ruby closed her eyes, a fruitless attempt to stop herself from crying even more. It only resulted in Blake’s image becoming blurry when she looked back at her. “What if it means you’re going to die? What if it means _everyone’s_ going to die? I can’t take that. I don’t want to do this anymore!”

Blake let go of her hands, holding Ruby tightly. “It’s okay, Ruby. I know it’s scary, but trust me, we’ll be okay. I promise.”

“You don’t know that!” Ruby yelled, pushing Blake away. She blinked, her eyes clearing up. Wait. She knew how she could find out for sure. “Where’s the lamp? I can ask Jinn! She’ll know!”

“Ruby, _no,_” Blake said, pulling her back in. “You don’t want to know. Think about it, honey. What if we need the Relic for something else later? Do you _really_ want to know if we’ll all die?”

“_I have to know,_” she replied, deathly calm. Blake would not be able to stop her.

“No, you don’t!”

Ruby escaped from Blake’s grasp, scrambling off the bed. She was vaguely aware of Blake calling for somebody as she began looking through their room. The Relic was in here, right? It had to be. It didn’t make sense for it to be anywhere else. The door flew open, with Weiss, Yang and Zoya charging through it. Were the others there? She couldn’t tell, and didn’t care. She had to find the Relic.

Before she knew it, Ruby had been enveloped by a crushing swarm of hugs from her friends, Yang, and her now-lover Blake. She could hear Blake briefing them on what had happened, prompting them to only hold her tighter and reassure her she was okay.

“I have to know!” Ruby yelled over their sweet reassurances. “Let me go!”

Zoya shoved the others out of the way, pinning Ruby to the ground and staring at her, looming on top of Ruby’s shoulders and chest. “Look at me,” Zoya demanded. “Stop thinking about them, _look at me._”

Ruby found herself strangely following Zoya’s orders, blinking rapidly as she met Zoya’s silver eyes. She had let her hair down to sleep, long strands of red hair cascading down across her bare shoulders, since she only wore a tank top for sleeping. Her silver eyes darted between Ruby’s own, until they relaxed, apparently satisfied with how she had responded.

“Okay, good,” Zoya said softly. “The Gods do _not_ tell us when it is our time. _We_ do. Don’t listen to deities that abandoned Remnant in its time of need. Listen to your friends and your family, who tell you that you’ll be okay. Do you understand me?”

“Uh huh,” Ruby said, nodding. Her breathing had returned back to normal by now, and it didn’t feel like her heart was trying to brute force its way out of her chest. She took a long, heavy breath, letting it out slowly.

“Good. I won’t hear _any_ talk about using the Relic to find out things nobody wants the answer to. Do you understand that?”

“I do.”

Zoya stared her down, no doubt trying to suss a lie out. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, she pushed herself off Ruby. Standing tall, she declared she was going back to sleep, and left the room without another word. The second Zoya had left and released Ruby, her friends and family were back to hugging her, again assuring her that it was all going to be okay.

Ruby could believe it this time.

* * *

Blake found herself unusually sleepy. Well, she knew _why._ Calming Ruby down after her panic attack had taken a lot out of all of them, and it resulted in not quite enough sleep for Blake before her meeting with the military today. She and Yang were tasked with feeding Colonel Adler with the proper intelligence to make him more fully believe that the CSB and police were collaborating to destroy the military’s power in Atlas. So far, it was working. He and his staff were buying into the conspiracy hook, line and sinker, even with Blake’s lethargic responses and yawn-filled replies.

“So then the situation is clear,” Colonel Adler said, standing over a map with junior officers around him. “The police and Bureau do intend to carry this out within the week. Bauer, make sure that your men interact cordially with the police in all their patrols. We don’t need an inciting incident at this point.”

“Understood, Mr. Colonel,” the officer replied, sharply nodding.

Yang glanced over at Blake, shooting her a knowing smirk. It was great when a plan came together, especially at a critical juncture like this. A lot rested on this moment, and if they couldn’t convince the military here, then their plans with the CSB and police would surely fall apart. The officers continued to discuss and debate future plans of action, each misstep into their trap music to Blake’s ears. It felt _damn_ good to mislead and befuddle the Atlesian system like this.

Someone knocked on the door, bringing the meeting to a grinding halt. An Atlesian sergeant nervously shuffled in, whispering to Colonel Adler. He furrowed his brow, staring back at the NCO. “What do you mean he’s here? Tell him I’m in an important meeting.”

“He insists, Mr. Colonel,” the sergeant reported. He looked nervous. Maybe he feared the Colonel’s reprisals?

Colonel Adler sighed, a pensive look crossing his face. “Fine, let him in, I suppose. Pack it up, gentlemen. We’ll continue this later.”

“On the contrary,” a man said. Oh God, it was the same man they had fought outside Atlas’s borders. The one with the mustache, and the boxer’s aura about him. His intense green eyes narrowed when he saw Blake and Yang, only relaxing when he saw the Colonel.

“Arthur Watts,” the Colonel said. “This is an unusual surprise. What brings you here?”

Watts produced a folder from a narrow case that hung at his waist, unbuckling the golden latch with a large, ornate “W” impressed onto it. He handed the folder to Colonel Adler, who immediately snatched it up and began to devour the contents. Judging by the rising anger crossing his face in double-time, it didn’t look good for them. “Mr. Colonel, I believe you have found your terrorists. These two imposters have illegally entered Atlas, and are now impersonating government officials.”

* * *

Weiss hated keeping this stoic, unperturbed look on her face. She had scarcely scowled so much since leaving Beacon, but here it was necessary. A reputation had been built up for Weiss that firmly called her a stoic, unemotional woman who did not tolerate nonsense. There was no room for emotion, for any sort of clue to her true intentions. She had to keep this frown locked on her face, lest somebody see the faint whispers of a smile, or any sort of feeling beyond unmitigated, perpetual disappointment and boredom with the workings of political life. The people around her had similar masks on – it was a trait she had noticed ever since arriving back in Atlas the first time. The CSB’s director worried about the buzzing that occupied his phone, concealing it under an air of debonair. His secretary constantly tried to hide the hatred that she had for her boss. Various intelligence agents concealed their rage, depression, apprehension, bitterness and defeatism with moderate amounts of success.

Weiss’s heels clicked against the marble floors as she was escorted to the CSB’s primary meeting room, a place where the Director coordinated all manner of activities. Surveillance feeds relayed the operations of the day from watching regular Atlesian citizens to monitoring military outposts for any sign of treachery. Occasionally, she saw the glimpse of the Schnee estate on the cameras, a reminder that not even her own family was safe from suspicion. Each man and woman around her had the same gray suit on, hopelessly indistinguishable from one another and equally unimportant, yet they all had the same lofty aspirations of being noticed and garnering enough favor to advance above their station.

The long, caramel-colored table was lined with chairs with a red velvety fabric, identical copies of the dossiers that Weiss had helped construct in front of each position. Beige walls flanked them all around as the agents monitoring the screens held quiet conversations, occasionally sending a gopher to give a message to the Director. The man himself sighed heavily as each person took their assigned seat, with Weiss closest to him. One by one, chairs slid out and slid back in, scraping across the floor as people settled down.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Director said, clearing his throat to draw all eyes to him. “This is a monumental day for Atlas. We have in our hands credible evidence of terrorist activity in Atlas, and we can put an end to the largest threat Atlas has received to its safety and security since the end of the Great War.”

A small round of applause arrived, no doubt congratulating themselves on having been essentially spoon-fed this intelligence. Weiss clapped, perfectly replicating the appearance of a bored heiress at a dreary state function.

“Miss Schnee has very generously provided us with an excellent source of intelligence, which we have been using to track the activity of these terrorists. Mr. Haulen, perhaps you could inform us as to what your department has found?”

Mr. Haulen, one of the CSB’s premier signals analysts if the Chairman’s boasting was to be believed, stood up, unfolding the document in his hands. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. We in Signals and Decryption have examined a great number of Scroll signals that have been coming in and out of Atlas. We suspect these terrorists are using a coded language, similar to slang and dialects found in Mistral. It is the opinion of my department, and myself, that the majority of the planning leadership hails from Kuchinashi or Mistral City. Uh, refer to Appendix H in your dossiers for more detail on that. Furthermore, from listening to intercepted signals, we do believe that these terrorists are intent on attacking the Atlesian railway station as soon as next week.”

“What do you mean, next week?” another officer asked, looking up from his set of papers. “I thought the Analytical Department had already given a prediction that placed an attack in four days?”

“Well, yes,” Mr. Haulen said, nodding. “Full respect and credit to Mrs. Kundert and her department, but we disagree with that assessment.”

Mrs. Kundert, a woman with long blonde hair tied back in a typical Atlesian military-style bun and with far too much makeup on, narrowed her eyes at Mr. Haulen. “Do you think we are fools, Mr. Haulen? Or should I bring up the way Signals and Decryption completely missed the beginnings of this entire plot to begin with?”

“No, I don’t mean to imply such a thing. I simply state that my department does not reach the same conclusions that yours does.”

“Enough,” the Director said, waving a hand. “Mr. Knopp, what does your department know?”

Mr. Knopp nodded sharply. “It is the opinion of Technical that these terrorists are extremely dangerous. Judging off the blueprints Miss Schnee has provided us, their weapons could easily destroy the train station – not to mention half the block in all directions around it. The civilian casualties would be enormous.”

Weiss sighed, rolling her eyes. It honestly shocked her that they hadn’t caught on to the ruse behind this all. It seemed obvious to her, but then again, she wasn’t the sort of person to see shadows around every corner and fear things that weren’t there. Perhaps for somebody who had lived their life believing in enemies everywhere, something like undetected terrorists in Atlas was easy to believe. The Director’s phone buzzed, and he gestured for the departmental heads to continue as he answered it. Weiss heard him just barely eke out a “hello?” followed up by a curt response of understanding. He hung up with a smile on his face as he stood up.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, bringing up two pictures on the main screen. Weiss stifled a gasp as the uncomfortably familiar faces appeared. “We have arrested two known terrorists. The military has apprehended Celeste Fleur and Raye Livi for illegally entering Atlas and impersonating a CSB agent and a police officer.”

_Oh no._ If Blake and Yang had been arrested, then their entire plan could be unraveled right here and now. “Excuse me,” Weiss said, rushing to get away as she whipped out her Scroll. The CSB agents didn’t pay her any mind – good. In a panic, Weiss sent texts to everybody, a brief and vague thing that hopefully could be deciphered without needing further explanation.

_B and Y compromised._

* * *

Ren watched the police officers confer with one another, no doubt trying to rationalize the information they had with the information they were sorely lacking. He and Nora had fed them exactly what Gabriel told them to – little lies here and there, half-truths when convenient, crumbs to a bigger pile. It seemed it was working – they had been thrown into chaos by the idea that the CSB was attempting to usurp their power, desperately trying to figure a way to stop them.

His Scroll buzzed, and he stepped away for a moment to see what it was. Maybe an email or something. Instead, it was a message from… Weiss? Why was Weiss texting him? Wasn’t she in a meeting with the CSB right now? He furrowed his brow, reading over the cryptic message. B and Y? Must have been Blake and Yang. How had they become compromised? He shook his head. No time to try and figure this out now. Ren sighed, turning back to Nora who by now was giving him a very concerned look. He gestured for her to come to him, which she did after making an excuse of her own.

“What’s going on?”

Ren pensively sighed, turning his phone over. “Weiss just sent me this. I think we have a problem.”

It took Nora less than a second to read the text, even shorter for a resolute look to cross her face. “Alright, we need to get out of here. We’ll improvise our way out.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise ide-”

Somebody else burst in, out of breath. “Captain! Captain! The military’s arrested one of our officers! They say she’s a terrorist!”

The officers looked at one another, confused. “What the fuck do you _mean_ they arrested one of us? Why don’t we know about this?”

“It’s the first step,” a lieutenant chimed in. “The army’s working with the CSB, obviously!”

“Or they were led to believe our cop was a terrorist,” somebody else said.

The arguments, theories, and general outrage overflowed until individual words could scarcely be determined. Nora shouted something about going to investigate to talk to her “army friends,” dragging Ren out right behind her. He couldn’t tell if they even heard her, or if they did, whether they believed Nora’s claim. All they could do right now was head back to the condo, avoid Whiteshirt patrols, and hope that somebody had an idea of what to do next.

* * *

“Okay,” Gabriel announced, rubbing his temples. “We need to unfuck this situation, _right now._ If any of you have ideas, I’m all ears.”

“What do you mean, if _we_ have ideas?” Zoya asked, furrowing her brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be the local expert here? Didn’t you plan for this?”

Gabriel sighed, shaking his head. “I know it's a foreign concept to you, but competency isn't equivalent to clairvoyancy. So, no, I didn't plan for Arthur fucking Watts to show up. I didn't plan for two of our agents to get fucking arrested, and I didn't _fucking_ plan for our operation to collapse around us at the critical _fucking_ juncture! So do you have anything to add or do I need to break out the fucking crayons?”

“We shouldn’t fight,” Pyrrha said weakly. “This could go very badly very quickly…”

“Well, we have to do _something!”_ Ruby shouted. She had been pacing back and forth almost since the news broke, intensely worried about not just Yang’s safety, but Blake’s as well. “Two of the people I love the most are in danger right now, and we’re just sitting here!”

Gabriel grunted, standing up and whipping Ruby around, forcing her to face him. “_We_ are staying alive and making sure we’re not landing _ourselves_ in an Atlesian military prison trying to get them out!”

“Okay, hold on,” Roy said, getting up from his chair and waving his arms, almost as if he was quelling the demands of an angry crowd.

The room collectively groaned. They had all heard his ideas before, and they usually never ended well. “No, no, no!” Roy yelled. “Trust me on this one!”

“Well, it can’t be any worse that what anyone else has,” Gabriel said, a defeated tone to his voice. “Tell us what your idea is.”

Roy smirked, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, so check this out. The military’s got our buddies, right? What if… and hear me out, what if… we disguise ourselves, Zoya and I, as two high-ranking military guys, and we stroll in and just whisk them out!”

Zoya immediately groaned again, throwing her head back dramatically. “My God, _no,_ Roy, this is the dumbest fucking-”

“It’s not half-bad,” Gabriel admitted, much to the room’s surprise. Even Roy himself stared at Gabriel, silently wondering if he actually had a good idea for once. “We’ll tweak it, to be sure, but… it’s not a bad idea.”

“Wait, really?” Roy said, surprised. “Wow, I didn’t think that’d actually _work._”

“Don’t hurt yourself patting your own back,” Gabriel grumbled. “Let’s figure this out, _properly,_ okay? No half-cocked bullshit.”

With a resigned, almost weary collective sigh, they turned to making this absurd plan work. Maybe one day, Pyrrha thought, they’d write some sort of book about this whole mess.

* * *

“This is so stupid,” Zoya muttered, tugging at the Atlesian uniform she had stuffed herself in as she drove Roy to a hotel that Gabriel had identified the military kept all their prisoners at. It stuck her as odd – why keep them here? Gabriel and Weiss both said that a lot of buildings in Atlas seemingly had an innocent purpose. A lot of them were just facades, like this one – meant to project an image of stability and peacefulness, when terrible things happened behind the walls.

“Hey, that should be, this is so stupid, _general,”_ Roy said, jabbing a finger at her. He looked like an idiot with that cap on. Who would ever believe he was an Atlesian general?

She rolled her eyes, swerving around a far too slow delivery truck. “Don’t let the fake rank go to your head.”

He ignored her, practicing his best impression of an Atlesian accent – or at least, that’s what she thought it was, anyway. That was the only explanation Zoya had for the weird voice he was putting on. Eventually, they made it to the hotel, where a grand, circular courtyard was the elegant front for the hotel that seemed to stretch up for miles. An archway with a red velvet carpet led the way in. If the place wasn’t manned by Atlesian soldiers instead of bellhops, maybe this would have been a half-decent hotel.

“I’ll go in first,” Zoya said as she turned their car off. “You follow after me, got it?”

“Hey, I don’t need no lesson in pretending,” Roy said, smiling with that same stupid confident grin he always had. “I’m a master in it.”

“Okay, well, how’s about we be masters of not getting fucking shot today, alright?”

She jumped out of the car, closing the door behind her. They were watching her, no doubt seeking out any sort of oddity that would mark her as an other. She stiffened up, recalled every year of training she had ever done as she marched to the other side of the car, letting Roy out. He immediately put on an air of nonchalance, as if he was irritated with the whole thing. He trailed behind her as she threw open the door to the hotel’s lobby.

“Attention!” Zoya shouted as she marched in ahead of Roy. “Attention, quickly you idiots!” She stood just as she had been taught at the Academy all those years ago, and without even a hint of questioning the soldiers around her did the same. Roy’s boots stomped, no doubt looking over the men with the sort of absurd critical eye he thought was required of Atlesian officers. Immediately, Zoya began to regret this whole adventure.

He stepped next to her, ringing the service bell on the desk. “This is General von Pumpernickel,” Zoya announced, referring to Roy’s fake identity, “of the King’s personal staff! For Atlas!”

“For Atlas!” they shouted, without a second’s delay.

“Impressive,” Roy said, his brow furrowed as he looked over the cheering soldiers. “Impressive. Lavi, until this moment I thought we had a chance of winning the war. Don’t report me.”

The man behind the desk swallowed, staring straight ahead. “Your orders, Mr. General?”

“You are holding two prisoners here,” Roy said, exaggerating his accent as Zoya took out a pad of paper and a pencil. “A girl named…” Roy tried snapping his fingers, but due to the leather glove over his hand, he couldn’t. He tried it several times, until taking it off with his teeth and finally snapping his fingers, prompting Zoya to fill him in.

“Celeste Fleur, Mr. General,” she said. “For Atlas!”

_“_ _For Atlas!”_

He wagged his finger, smiling. “Ah, yes, that one, and, uh… Raye Livi. I want them taken outside and put in my machine at once!”

The man behind the desk blinked, and he swallowed again. “But, uh, Mr. General…”

“Take this man’s name,” Roy immediately said, turning to Zoya. “And have him transferred to the Cold Territories.”

“Of course, Mr. General. For Atlas!”

_“_ _For Atlas!”_

Another man stepped forward, coming from behind them. Looked like an officer. “May I be of assistance, Mr. General?”

Roy shot him an incredulous look, his eyes bugging out. He turned back to Zoya, pointing at the officer. “This man is to be court martialed and shot!”

“But Mr. General,” the officer said, surprised. “I have not even helped you yet!”

“That’s why, you’re too slow!” Roy shouted, slapping his riding crop on the desk. “Will you never learn?!”

Another officer slid up on Zoya’s left. “Mr. General, may _I_ be of assistance?”

“You may _not!”_ Roy shouted, turning back to Zoya. “Take this man’s name, Lavi!”

Zoya looked up innocently from her notepad. “Transferred to the Cold Territories, or court martialed to be shot?”

Roy shrugged his shoulders, waving his ungloved hand around in a lackadaisical manner. “I don’t know,” he said, rolling his eyes around. “Mix them up.”

“Very good, Mr. General,” Zoya said, nodding as she shot a dirty look at the accused officer. “For Atlas!”

“_For Atlas!”_

“Sir, I regret,” the second officer said, looking rather apologetic and concerned. “We must have _written authorization_ to release the prisoners.”

Roy cocked his head back, his eyes wide. “You _dare_ to question the authority of General von… von…” He began snapping his fingers again. Must have forgotten his fake name.

“Pumpernickel,” Zoya filled in.

“_von Pumpernickel?!”_ He frowned, disgusted, and turned back to Zoya, pointing at the officer. “This man is to be court martialed, shot, _and_ sent to the Cold Territories!”

Roy looked around him, a clear air of disgust on his face. “Now listen to me, all of you!” He smacked the sign-in book on the desk with his riding crop once. “My _patience_ is at an end!” Next, Roy smashed the hell out of a flower vase and a lamp. Zoya cringed – not just because she was playing a role, but because if they caught on now, they’d both be dead. “I want these prisoners brought down and put in my machine,” he shoved off the telephone, and a basked of fruit that had been set out on the desk, “in _five minutes!_” Another swing of his riding crop smashed some tiny trinket. “Repeat, _five minutes!_” He swept away a small bonsai tree, cascading dirt onto the floor. “If you do _not_ follow my orders within that time, you all will be transferred to the Cold Territories!” For good measure, he smacked one of the remaining fruits on the desk. “_Including the hotel itself!_”

As if this wasn’t enough – honestly Zoya thought he had gone drunk with power at this point – he shoved his way past the officers and Zoya, shoving over a stack of rifles that had been set up. Roy destroyed a floor vase, shattering it into a million pieces while the soldiers just stared and watched. Finally, as he was storming out, he paused over a soldier and smacked him on his helmeted head with his riding crop, producing a distinctly _ping-_ing noise along with it. All eyes turned to Zoya, who immediately put on her best acting face and shook her head in a resigned manner.

“He means it,” she said. “I know him!”

Zoya followed him outside, where he had taken up smoking next to the car. Well, at least he had _one_ part of being a soldier right. She settled in next to him, both continuing to play at their roles. “So, uh,” he muttered after a minute, keeping his voice low as the soldiers patrolled around them. “What happens if they figure out we’re not military?”

“Then _we_ get transferred to the Cold Territories,” Zoya hissed.

The air chilled them both, despite the heavy wool coats they wore as part of their fake uniforms, as they waited for either their inevitable court martial and execution, or for the Atlesian military to actually buy this whole absurd gambit.

Eventually, the doors to the hotel opened. Two guards practically shoved Yang and Blake out, escorting them to the car. With some degree of confusion and a knowing, disapproving glance from Roy to the guards, they were stuffed in. Just as quickly, Zoya and Roy got in the car, peeling off and escaping cleanly.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Yang said the second they left the confines of the hotel gardens. “Why are you two dressed up like Atlesian military dudes?”

“Why the hell is Roy an officer?”

“Look, we needed to get you two out,” Zoya explained. “Nobody else had a better idea.”

The two stared at them, before Blake burst out laughing. “Wow. I can’t believe they actually bought that.”

“Hey, listen, I’m a _great_ fucking actor, okay?” Roy said, pointing his cigarette accusingly at them. “I woulda made it big in Kuchinashi if I hadn’t gotten in trouble with the cops.”

Zoya rolled her eyes again, turning to head down the road towards the condo. “And if you didn’t smuggle drugs.”

“Wait, you smuggled drugs?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, I did, you didn’t tell me you were a Faunus, so I guess we all got secrets, yeah?”

“I think that’s a little different,” Yang said.

“Can we maybe save the philosophical discussions about morality and immorality for later?” Zoya asked, still intensely nervous about being captured at any second by any of the slew of three-letter agencies that operated in Atlas. Driving with these clowns around her wasn’t much helping her nerves. Either way, that looked like it had the intended effect, since the ride back to the condo was smooth and quiet. Just the way Zoya liked it.


	32. The Bells of Atlas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final phase of the team's plan goes into effect.

The good news was that, due to Watts’ interference, the military fully believed that there was a credible threat presented by the CSB and police.

The bad news was that now their timeline had gone up, far quicker than anyone had expected.

Pyrrha didn’t like wandering Atlas’s streets, especially when they were still in their regular clothing like this. She, Zoya, Roy, Ruby and Oscar had all gone their separate ways to avoid being picked up all at once by a Whiteshirt patrol, meaning she was completely alone as she made her way to the rendezvous point. There, they would get their new Atlesian uniforms from Gabriel, posing as members of the fictional Atlesian Security Corps. The cover was that they were top-secret, and only answered to the King, answering why nobody else had ever heard of them.

The knowledge that there shouldn’t be anything to incriminate Pyrrha in some sort of crime did not allay the apprehension and anxiety that consumed her. Each Whiteshirt patrol that passed her by – mixed squads of young men, teenagers and overzealous old men – put her on edge. What if one of them recognized her? Maybe their enemies knew more than any of them thought, and instead of laying a trap, Pyrrha was unknowingly about to spring one herself. Pyrrha sighed, making her way as inconspicuously as she could through the throngs of people. She lightly pushed and shoved her way past downtrodden people just trying to survive against the crushing Atlesian bureaucracy, occasionally glancing over to track the latest patrol that came her way.

“You there!” somebody shouted, but not at her. That didn’t stop Pyrrha from jumping in response. “What are you hiding?”

She glanced over – three teenagers, each one in the stark white knickerbockers and collared shirts that signaled a roaming pack of Whiteshirts, had gathered around somebody across the street. The leader, a lad with bright red hair that curled and sprouted off seemingly at random, jostled their prey around as if he was trying to shake mud off a dirty weapon.

“Ah, he ain’t got nothing,” a short and fat boy said, resembling more a bowling ball than a young authoritarian-in-training. “Come on, let’s find something better to do.”

The red-haired boy didn’t stop. He kept shaking the person, eventually shoving them to the ground. Even from where she was, Pyrrha could hear them bounce off the pavement. It sounded uncomfortably like they had broken a bone or two. Crowds of people moved around the scene, with not a single soul daring to take on the thralls of the Atlesian state.

Between people’s legs, she could see blood dripping out of the abused person’s mouth. Somebody had to stop this – they were liable to kill him, whoever he was. And yet, Pyrrha knew she shouldn’t. Not only because it would destroy her cover, but it would only cause problems. She had heard Weiss say it best herself – in the sea of Atlas, it was better to go with the flow than make waves. And so, Pyrrha bit her tongue, held back every fiber in her that wanted to rush across the street and rescue this unknown person from his assailants.

She had to remind herself a life of notoriety was not what she wanted.

Pyrrha had this discussion with herself many times, most often when arguing against her cigarettes late at night on lonely balconies and back porches, when the only witnesses to the philosophical debates she had were the moon and stars. It was a struggle she had tangled with ever since she first tasted fame, a flavor Pyrrha found far too bitter and entirely hollow. There was a certain tightness in her chest even now as she moved past the group of Whiteshirts across the street, ignoring the man’s pleas for a help that even he knew would never come.

“Let’s see how you like hot Dust!” the leader shouted. The other two boys eagerly grabbed the man’s arms and legs as the red-haired boy produced a warm vial of Dust oil. _God,_ she had always heard about this – mostly from Weiss – but knowing she might see it was another thing. Pyrrha quickened her pace, trying to get away as the man’s screams filled the air. Nobody could help him now.

This was the price Pyrrha was paying for seeking a life of no recognition. It meant doing things like this, ignoring somebody clearly in need because to help him would only mean undoing the work she had done to ensure she was unnoticed. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she turned the corner, the man’s shouts finally starting to fade out. Maybe one day, she could look in the mirror at midnight and not feel disgusted with herself about this. That day wasn’t going to come soon, though – that much Pyrrha knew.

The Whiteshirt headquarters must have been nearby. That was the only reason Pyrrha had for why she could see Ruby now, anxiously awaiting her arrival outside a row of buildings. Had she already traveled four blocks in the time it took to contemplate the hatred Pyrrha had for herself? Maybe. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. She ducked into the abandoned brick walk-up with Ruby. Zoya, Roy and Oscar were already here, with Gabriel hunched over a radio set in the corner. The transmissions that emanated from it sounded calm. Must have been just in time.

“Good, we’re all here,” Gabriel said, taking notes as he listened. “You all know your roles? Change into the uniforms now, this could kick off at any moment.”

He gestured to a suitcase that contained their uniforms. Ruby, Zoya and Pyrrha each had a dark blue wool coatdress, to be worn over a light-colored dress shirt and black waistcoat, with warm leggings to protect their legs from the cold. Roy and Oscar, meanwhile, had a long collared dark blue shirt with double breast pockets, matched with tall black boots and jodhpurs. They all had the same stout, asymmetrical peaked cap, with four points and Atlas’s symbol sewn on to it. Each uniform was fitted to them, a feat of tailoring that Pyrrha constantly heard was not easy for Gabriel to accomplish. One by one, they changed into their uniforms, with Roy and Pyrrha posing as the leaders of the Atlesian Security and Safety Corps. Once they had, Gabriel gave them a once-over, checking to make sure everything actually fit and fixing anything they may have missed while they were changing. For Roy and Pyrrha, this meant minute adjustments to their rank tabs and fixing their collars, with Ruby needing a button slightly polished.

“Okay, good,” he said, taking a step back. “Congratulations, you all look like another part of the Atlas security apparatus.”

Pyrrha sighed, tugging against the massive collar that surrounded her. “So, what do we do now?”

The transmissions kicked up in intensity and volume, as Gabriel gave them a knowing smile. “There we go,” he said. “Alright, your friends should be playing their part now. Let’s go in for the kill and get the Relic.”

Well, that settled it. Pyrrha looked around her – determined faces all around, with the only hint of anxiety in her own. If Ruby, Zoya, Roy and Oscar were so confident, then why shouldn’t she be? After all, there was little reason not to be. She took a deep breath, nodding sharply as they headed out the door.

* * *

The sirens emanated and echoed from the Whiteshirt headquarters, a massive, imposing building with what felt like a million windows implanted in its gray concrete walls. It was surrounded by an equally palatial pavilion, small half-dead trees and evergreens in neatly arranged rows and lines. The green peaked roof stood tall across the dreary dull gray sky, as snow began to fall. Even from where she was, Pyrrha could see the Atlesian military, police, and Central Surveillance Bureau outside, weapons pointed at one another. Members of the Whiteshirts had flooded outside as well, pistols and swords at the ready in case a conflict started. The shouts and confused orders that flowed from each group could be heard well before anyone even approached. It didn’t look like any regular Atlesian citizens much felt like investigating what was going on.

“_I say again for the last time,_” somebody shouted, an Atlesian officer judging by the cut of his jacket, “_stand down or we will shoot!_”

“_**You’re**__ the ones who should be standing down!_” another voice yelled out. “_We have to contain the terrorists!_”

A third unknown person blew a whistle. “_All of you are under arrest for conspiracy! Book them!_”

It was at this critical juncture, with the Whiteshirts nervously pointing their weapons at whoever they thought was the largest threat at that moment, that Pyrrha, Ruby, Zoya, Roy and Oscar arrived. Roy had been given a bullhorn, which he used with an almost zealous pride. “Alright, listen up, all of you!” he shouted, his voice amplified twice over by the tool. The various factions – including Weiss, Ren and Nora, playing their parts as confused members – collectively lowered their weapons and stared at them. “This is the Atlesian Security and Safety Corps! Put down your weapons!”

“Who the hell are _you?!_” the military officer asked, breaking out from the line.

“The King has personally dispatched us,” Pyrrha declared, putting on her best Atlesian accent. “We are to put down this obvious three-way civil war, and to ensure the safety of the Relic. Could you not have done this in a different location, ladies and gentlemen?”

The Director of the Central Surveillance Bureau shook his head, stepping forward. “This is clearly a sham! I’ve never heard of you!”

Roy chuckled, getting back on the bullhorn. “Don’t you think there’s a reason for that, blockhead? As my colleague said, the King has personally sent us to keep the peace. Stand down, all of you.”

The regular men, the rank and file of the four organizations, paused and contemplated this. Pyrrha could see the conflict in their faces – these were orders directly from the King, people sent by him personally. If they doubted their veracity and they turned out to be wrong, these men and women would be in deep trouble. Probably about half as much trouble as Pyrrha and her friends would be if anyone decided to call their bluff.

Before even a single person could move, however, a horribly deep roaring filled the air. Not a single person in that crowd of armed souls was unaware of what that terrible noise signaled. The Grimm were coming. Pyrrha turned just in time to see a massive, looming Grimm stand tall over even Atlas’s skyscrapers, the screams of intensely panicked civilians mixing with exclamations of horror and tactical orders. Whatever goal the three forces had beforehand – arrest, wiping each other out, or just containment – disappeared with the Grimm. Lancers, Beowolves, and Beringels swarmed the pavilion, just in time for Gabriel, Blake and Yang to drift onto the scene in a requisitioned Atlesian staff vehicle.

“Come on!” Gabriel shouted over the blaze of gunfire that had erupted. Few soldiers, intelligence agents, or police officers even seemed to care about them. Weiss, Ren and Nora each broke off and linked back up with the rest of the team, following Gabriel, Blake and Yang as they headed for the Whiteshirt headquarters. Horrible skittering noises rang in Pyrrha’s ears, a sure sign of a Centinel attacking Atlas. She knew the other creature that had attacked was a Leviathan, one far larger than anything she knew of. Each bellow from the massive beasts rocked not just the ground, but reverberated in every bone in Pyrrha’s body, shattering windows and knocking loose masonry and stoneworks alike.

“Where are we going?!” Pyrrha yelled.

“Inside!” Gabriel replied, pulling out two shotguns as he kicked in the solid, steel-paned doors to the headquarters building. He whipped around just after getting inside, covering them as they ran in. The lobby of the Whiteshirt headquarters could most accurately be described as posh chaos. The ornate decorations and white color scheme gave off an air of pomp and circumstance, but the panicking paramilitary men inside clearly were at odds with their surroundings. Some of the Grimm had already made it inside, judging by the sound of gunfire from somewhere deeper in the building.

“We’re reinforcements!” Zoya shouted at a man cowering behind the desk, thinking quickly on her feet. “Where’s the Relic?!”

He tried to reply with words, but could only weakly point in the direction of gunfire. The Grimm must have been sent here by Salem to recover the Relic of Creation. If they got it now, they’d never be able to get it back.

“Split into teams!” Gabriel yelled. “Pyrrha, Zoya, Blake, head down that hallway!” He gestured to a passage that must have taken them past offices, lights already flickering. Must have been an effect of the Grimm outside, either cutting electricity lines or just jostling things around with their deep, booming cries of terror. She didn’t hear who else was split up, or where they’d be going – it didn’t much matter right now, anyway. All they had to do was get to the Relic before anyone – or anything – else did.

Pyrrha strapped Akoúo̱ to her left hand, swapping Miló to sword form as she took point. Blake and Zoya kept her covered, with Zoya meticulously checking every single door they came across as Blake scanned behind them for potential flank attacks. The smaller Grimm that had arrived with their massive brethren had clearly broken in here, judging by the screams, gunshots and snarls that could be heard around what felt like every corner. In the blink of an eye, the lights had gone out. Zoya cursed, turning on her Scroll’s flashlight and affixing it to her rifle with a mount of some kind. Pyrrha turned her Scroll on as well, moving a magnetic strip up to solidify its place on her chest.

Growling. It was decidedly  _not_ friendly. Pyrrha gasped involuntarily, pausing just as Zoya had crossed to the next door, angling her body to get a look inside the room without exposing too much of her body to a potential attacker. Bright red eyes shot out from the office, crashing into the opposite wall as it realigned itself for another charge. Their flashlights just barely caught a glimpse of bone white plates that covered the beast’s shoulders and chest. Beringel. Alright, this could be dealt with.  Orange light filled the hallway as Zoya fired a single shot, which the Beringel shrugged off without even a second thought. It roared just as it began to charge for Pyrrha, to which she stood fast and true, waiting for it to get just close enough for her to sidestep out of the way and slice at its legs.

Her sword bounced off its heavy plates on the legs, which she sort of expected. Blake began firing as well, her automatic pistol illuminating her face as the Beringel slammed into another wall, knocking it down entirely. The sound of collapsing concrete and drywall mixed with somebody coughing – maybe Blake, judging by how her weapon had gone silent. Pyrrha let out a war cry, counter-charging into the Beringel as it beat its own chest. Zoya was right next to her, using her bayonet to hack at its chest. She knew this was its weak point – best to attack it while it was grandstanding like this.

The Beringel’s frame and general awkward gait betrayed how quick its reactions actually were. It snatched Zoya’s rifle just as she had begun to swing at it, yanking the weapon out of her hands and throwing it away. Pyrrha’s strike also found no result, as it had smacked her to the side. As she tumbled into a pile of rubble, Pyrrha heard Zoya cry out in pain.  She grunted, picking herself off the ground and grabbing Miló, which had somehow slipped out of her hand in the confusion. There wasn’t any other option available – she swapped over to the rifle, firing off rounds as fast as she could squeeze the trigger. A resulting  _ping_ told her she had fired off all eight shots in the span of what felt like the blink of an eye, and she quickly shoved another clip of Dust in.

She winced. Rushing through the reload procedure had caused the bolt to catch on her finger. She’d made that mistake once in the past, and vowed never to do it again. Guess not even she was immune to mistakes. Pyrrha looked up, waving her hand as if that’d make the pain go away any faster, watching as the Beringel charged on Blake. It looked like she had changed over to the katana, hacking away at the Beringel as she lured it into false copies of herself. Out of the corner of her eye, Pyrrha saw Zoya getting up, scrambling to retrieve her weapon. Time to keep shooting – this thing needed to die  _now_ before it impeded their progress too much.

Just as Blake had been launched away by another swing of the Beringel’s massive fists, Pyrrha and Zoya began firing again. Pyrrha with her semi-automatic rifle, Zoya working her bolt with a speed that quite honestly still terrified Pyrrha to this day. She remembered back at the Vytal Tournament being up against her mad-minute firing drills, and it was not a fun thing to face. The Beringel screamed as it turned to face them, but under the combined withering fire, it quickly collapsed, fading away as it died.

“Fuck!” Blake yelled, clutching her side. “Is it done?!”

“Yeah!” Zoya replied, shoving new cartridges in. “Come on, let’s go, let’s go!”

Pyrrha inserted another full clip of ammo – this time, being sure to keep her fingers away from the bolt as it closed – as she got up off the floor, Zoya worked her rifle’s bolt one last time, no doubt to load a round in the chamber. The hallway branched off in two paths ahead of them – the left path claimed this was the way to the Vault. Zoya and Blake suspected this was where the Relic was, a theory that Pyrrha agreed with.

More gunfire, this time familiar. Sounded like Yang and Nora were fighting something, or just finishing it off. They charged through a hole in the wall, spotting Pyrrha, Blake and Zoya with a look of relief on their faces. “Thank God,” Yang said. “Come on, the Vault’s this way! Everyone else is already at it!”

The lights in the hallway came back on as they ran. An alarm blared, mixing with an alert announced by a panicked voice somewhere deep in the facility, demanding all Whiteshirts mobilize immediately to deal with the Grimm invasion. The ringing was overwhelming, so loud that Pyrrha could barely even hear herself think, much less hear what her friends were saying. Grimm rushed past them in the hallways, both at their side and laterally, but they paid no attention to Pyrrha and her friends.

An explosion echoed from the next hallway down, the concussive wave knocking them down even though they were nowhere near it. Another alarm rang, this time warning the facility of a breach in the Vault. This prompted a double-time pace from them, rushing down the hallways until they reached the Vault.  Massive holes were in the wall ahead of them, with even more from adjacent rooms. It looked like whoever – or whatever – was roaming around in here had only a casual respect for walls. Heavy steel doors, just barely swinging an inch back and forth, marked the entrance to the lobby of the Vault. Dead Whiteshirts had been scattered around here, but in the chaos and flickering lights, Pyrrha wasn’t sure if they had been killed by Grimm or her friends.

Honestly, if this was any other point in her life, Pyrrha would have laughed at the absurdity of what she was seeing. When under Grimm invasion, though, she couldn’t find much to laugh at. The Vault was protected by a massive steel door shaped like a gear, easily at least forty feet in height, at least a solid meter thick, with all manner of machinery and safety gear nearby to protect people while it rolled open along a singular track. But beyond the vault door was a regular, normally-sized door with a push bar and a folding chair next to it. All this cost and drama for a simple door?

Pyrrha’s gaze was taken off the absurd vault door to see Gabriel approaching them. Ruby, Oscar, Roy, Ren and Weiss were near the push door, stacking up in preparation to breach. “You five stand guard,” Gabriel ordered. “Watch our backs, and if we’re not out in five minutes, come and get us, understand?”

“What was that explosion?” Yang asked, reloading her gauntlets. “Wasn’t us, was it?”

“No, somebody outside got a bit grenade happy,” Gabriel answered, lifting his shotguns up and turning around. “Five minutes!”

She pulled back the bolt on her rifle – still loaded, like she expected. The air fell silent as her friends and Gabriel pushed through the door, closing with a bang that bounced off the walls. Other than the blaring alarms and low, muffled groans of Grimm somewhere off deeper in the building, all was calm. Pyrrha felt as if her breathing would give them away, and somebody knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and intended to stop them at any moment.

Intense gunfire broke out, muffled by the door behind them. It sounded like there was a war on all fronts, with not a single side of Pyrrha safe. She swallowed, readjusting her grip. Her mind could only imagine the chaos that consumed the world outside, wondering if they’d actually be able to make it out of Atlas. Gabriel hadn’t exactly explained how that was supposed to work. It sounded like the gunfire was coming closer – was it approaching from behind them, signaling a friendly retreat with objective in hand, or an enemy on a wide flank? The same door banging open, with familiar bootsteps heading her way, confirmed the former.

“Go, go, go!” Gabriel yelled, sprinting past them and turning into the abyss. Pyrrha, Zoya, Yang, Blake and Nora jumped up to follow, with the rest of the team not far behind. The alarms, alternating between two high-pitched whines, felt as if they were drilling a hole directly into Pyrrha’s skull. They ran down a series of twisting, confusing hallways, a layout made no easier by the introduction of Grimm to the problem. Beringels and Beowolves crashed and skidded through, trying to latch on to whoever had the Relic of Creation, a staff-like object that glowed with a blue aura.

“Keep running!” Gabriel shouted over the sounds of weapons fire. “We can’t stop for anything!”

The blinding light hit her first when they reached the lobby, matched with an equally intense ramp up in noise volume as the weapons fire arrived. The massive glass windows provided an excellent view of the chaos outside, with a Centinel weaving up and down as it traveled down the street, no doubt terrorizing the Atlesian citizens. They headed outside, where the military, police and CSB had all scattered, no doubt to fight their own individual wars.

“Which way?!” Roy screamed. “Which way to get the _fuck_ out of here?!”

A horrible rasping noise filled the air, just as a massive, spiny leg rose up above the tallest buildings on the street. It came down with a thundering crash, sending chunks of concrete everywhere and setting off car alarms – those that hadn’t already been engaged by earlier combat, anyway – as it slammed into the ground. Affixed to the leg was surely at least eight or nine others, with a massive black and white carapace that held all sorts of tentacles, pincers and jaws, as two massive blood-red eyes stared back at them. Pyrrha had only heard of this monster in her textbooks before – the Riesenkrabbe. This was one of the Grimm that Professor Degroot had once told her were part of a class of Grimm so old, so ancient that they were no longer interested in clashing with human settlements unless extremely provoked.

“I… I think we have to stop for _that,_” Blake said.


	33. Lay Down Your Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team fight the Riesenkrabbe.

Pyrrha stood frozen, unable to even blink as she stared in horror at the Riesenkrabbe. Its massive tentacles, protruding from its carapace, slammed into each building as it used the impossibly long limbs to stabilize itself on rooftops and walls, smoothly moving over them to more easily pluck occupants from towering office windows and residential dorms. The thick, tree-like legs thundered every time they made contact with the ground, a rush of air accompanying them when they lifted up. The sky had gone from a dull gray to a stark black, with thunder and lighting on top of the falling snow. If there was rain, Pyrrha wasn’t sure if she felt it.

“Wh-what do we do?” Yang asked, swallowing hard.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here with that around,” Ren noted.

A clattering of gear rose up from the right. Pyrrha looked over, spotting a group of white-clad people with strange masks on. A long tube stretched from a narrow elongation that came out from where a mouth would be. The face, just near where a nose would appear, had a thing on it that looked like the top of a pepper shaker, with almost beady eye holes the only hint that there was even a human inside. They had large, circular metal tanks on their backs, with a long barrel in their hands with another tube that attached to the tanks. They wore long, white coats that flowed behind them dramatically, flared hoods covering their heads. They gestured and – she presumed – shouted at one another, and they began to circle the legs of the Riesenkrabbe.

“What are they-” Before the question could even escape Ruby’s mouth, the new arrivals squeezed the triggers on their weapons, huge plumes of fire and black smoke pouring out of the tubes. The flame stuck to the Grimm’s legs, causing it to screech with a volume that shattered windows for what felt like blocks around. The sound tumbled and banged around in her body, and for a moment Pyrrha thought she’d be knocked off-balance by it.

“They’re killing it,” Weiss managed to shout above the noise. “But we need to help them! Fire won’t do it by itself!”

“Let’s do it!” Zoya yelled back, already breaking off and opening fire. Pyrrha rolled her shoulders back, steadying herself. Ren and Nora were about to begin their attack as well. No doubt Ruby and her team had a plan they were about to put into action.

She charged in with Ren and Nora, both of whom had already agreed on an unspoken plan to engage the Riesenkrabbe’s legs. It looked like Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Blake were charging up to attack either the carapace or the thinly-armored joint between the legs. Pyrrha wasn’t sure where Zoya, Roy, Oscar and Gabriel had gone off to, but it didn’t much matter. Nora paused, unfolding her grenade launcher and lobbing off pink-trailed grenades at the Riesenkrabbe. It responded with another deafening roar, which tumbled about in Pyrrha’s chest as she charged forward. The explosions mixed with the sound of Ren’s pistols firing, the perfect cover for Pyrrha to charge in with her sword high in hand. She brought it down with a harsh swing on the Grimm’s legs, only causing minimal damage. Honestly, it didn’t feel like she was doing anything to it.

Ren’s bullets likewise didn’t seem to have an effect, and Nora’s explosions only served to irritate the thing. Well, it wasn’t like she had another option. She continued to swing, dodging its wild and sluggish counterattacks, rolling when it was about to stomp down on her. Up above, Pyrrha could see Ruby and her team fighting on top of the carapace, harassed by the tentacles that came from its face. She glanced to her right – Roy, Zoya, Gabriel and Oscar were each fighting with another leg, assisting the Atlesian forces in setting it aflame. By now, Nora had swapped over to fire Dust, using it to launch incendiary grenades higher up on the Riesenkrabbe’s leg as Ren began to do the same. At least fire itself worked, even if it was in the form of Dust.

A massive explosion consumed the carapace. Pyrrha jumped back, dodging another wide swing of the legs and looked up. She couldn’t see Ruby or her friends anywhere up there.

“Yo!” Roy shouted, fruitlessly smacking his bat against the Riesenkrabbe’s leg as he ran to them. “What the fuck happened up there?”

“I don’t know,” Pyrrha admitted, shrugging. Another explosion, followed up by a burst of red shooting out from the top of the carapace, flying off to a nearby building. Was that Ruby, activating her Semblance to get out of a bad situation? What was even causing the explosions anyway? It didn’t make sense to her.

The leg in front of her rising up forced Pyrrha to take her mind off the battle above. The Riesenkrabbe was _not_ thrilled with their involvement, a fact it made very clear as it screeched and swung at buildings. Shattered glass, broken pieces of concrete, and twisted beams of steel fell upon them, only narrowing missing Pyrrha. She shielded her face from the falling debris, glancing up as the dust and dirt settled. The Grimm’s face might have been a weak point – why else would it so zealously defend the multiple tentacles and eyes that protruded from it? Pyrrha swapped over to her rifle, shouting out her theory to anyone nearby. She could only hope that Weiss, Yang and Blake were safe up top, or at least had gotten out of the way.

Nora and Ren both began firing on the eyes, with Nora’s fiery grenades streaking through the air as they sailed up. Her rifle’s recoil impulses rocked against her shoulder, slamming into her each time she squeezed the trigger. This seemed to be working – the Riesenkrabbe screeched again, as a billowing plume of dust was kicked up by a resultant crash in the ground. In another temper tantrum, the Grimm rapidly stomped its legs. Gunshots rang out on Pyrrha’s right, but given the multiple firearms unleashing on the Grimm, she couldn’t tell whose they were. All she focused on was the image of the Grimm’s tentacles and eyes in her sights, firing off calm, controlled shots until the _ping_ and ejected clip told her to reload, repeating the process over and over again.

Somebody was yelling. Voices mixed and matched with one another in the confusion chaos of taking down the Riesenkrabbe, intermingling with explosions, gunshots, and alarms that echoed in the thundering storm. A flash of lightning filled Pyrrha’s vision, and in that white-filled blink the Riesenkrabbe had begun to falter. Slowly, at first, as if it was unsure of where its gait was taking it, until slowly the carapace began to rotate forwards. A final, drawn-out moan escaped its mouth as it began to collapse, rumbling every fiber of her being as it droned away. Even more pieces of nearby buildings began to crumble and fall off as the Riesenkrabbe descended on its uncontrolled landing.

“Go, go, go!” Gabriel shouted, somehow making himself heard over the noise.

“Where the _fuck_ are we going?!” Roy yelled back.

“Anywhere but here!” Nora replied.

Pyrrha took a stilted, almost hesitant breath as she watched the massive Grimm collapse down on the ground. She took one half-hearted step back, before her own fear overcame whatever inertial resistance her body had to sprinting in the exact opposite direction. She didn’t care to look behind her as she ran, ignorant to anything that wasn’t getting away from the mayhem. Eventually, a final echoing boom slammed down behind Pyrrha, nearly knocking her down as a wave of dust and pure force passed over her.

She was quickly plucked off the ground by Gabriel, with others – mostly Zoya, Yang and Nora, now that she had her senses about her – shouting that they needed to keep going. The fact that only Gabriel had a clue of where to go didn’t seem to bother anyone else, but that was a problem for later. Gunfire from the various Atlesian security forces still consumed the air, with yelps and cries from the smaller Grimm that could not be quelled even for a second. Gabriel once again took charge in leading them through the Atlesian capital, now raging with confusion, anxiety, and pandemonium. Scared people ran every which way that wasn’t in the direction of a Grimm, while the Whiteshirts fruitlessly tried to rally people to defend the city. The police, military and intelligence agents mingled and mixed together in a defense in depth, with scarcely anyone paying attention to Pyrrha and her friends.

“Over there!” Gabriel shouted, gesturing with his shotguns to a landing pad. Private airships filled the nearby hangar, with desperate people fleeing despite military orders to stay away. Zoya brute-forced her way through, shouting that they were all Atlesian military and had direct orders to take off on the first available airship. The terrified privates accepted this without question, letting them on as Gabriel and Roy set to work on taking off. Pyrrha, Zoya, Blake and Ruby all stood near the door, weapons ready to engage any Grimm or overzealous policemen that wanted to stray too close to them. The wave of a gun and an authoritarian tone from Zoya and Blake more than cowed anyone who dared to approach, and before long they were comfortably in the air, floating away from Atlas as the loading door closed. Pyrrha sighed, slinging her rifle on her back as she looked out the circular port windows. Pillars of smoke rose up from spots in the city, individual markers of a raging conflict that no doubt was ensuing over a ravenous search for the Relic.

She shook her head, trying to excise the images from her mind as she headed up to the front of the airship. Pyrrha was incredibly exhausted, collapsing on one of the bucket seats as her gear clattered around her, with Ruby, Zoya and Blake doing the same. Nora, Yang, Weiss, Oscar, and Ren all did the same, either resting on one another or leaning on their various weapons, glad to finally have a chance to just take a break for once and slow down. “So,” she finally dared to ask, looking towards Gabriel and Roy. “What’s the next step? Do we get to learn what that is?”

“Oscar here informed us about the location of the next Relic,” Gabriel said, adjusting various knobs and typing away onto the on-board computer. “We’re heading to Vacuo, so good news is we can dump all the cold-weather gear.”

“What’s the _bad_ news?” Ruby asked, stretching her arm out.

Smirking, Gabriel set the autopilot on, standing up. “Well, Vacuo’s as lawless as lawlessness gets. We’re going to face as much trouble from the locals as we are the Grimm, not to mention anyone else that stands in our way.”

“Right,” Blake said, sighing. “Salem’s followers are still out there.”

Gabriel nodded. “Right. Get some rest. We’re in for a long flight to Vacuo.”

She leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes. Conversations and time seemed to move around her, and while sleep came easily for Pyrrha, it was not particularly peaceful or gave her rest. She tried to stay awake, focus on cleaning her rifle occasionally, but every time she set about a task or even just stared out the window to watch the ocean roll past, her eyelids felt heavy and she found her head falling back and forth. In the blink of an eye, they’d be another five hundred kilometers closer while she was lost and confused, unsure if one minute or one hour had passed. Sometimes, she deigned to forgot who she was and what was going on, only for the grim reality of her plight to slam right back to the forefront of her mind like a bad dream.

Pyrrha wiped a stream of drool off the corner of her mouth, grimacing as she wiped it on the borrowed clothing. Maybe all she really needed right now was actual rest, in an actual bed like the one Blake, Ruby, Oscar and Roy had managed to capture in Atlas while they stayed in Gabriel’s condo. Though, judging by the way Gabriel was talking, maybe they’d never see a real bed again before this war was over. If only they had taken a larger airship.

She felt herself drifting back into unconsciousness again, her eyelids violently opening and closing as she struggled to stay awake. Her dreams featured confusing, irreconcilable visages of her friends and people two years gone, combined with impossible scenarios that didn’t make sense. Pyrrha’s own thoughts and aspirations flitted between tales that snaked through short dresses and armored boots, tormented by the horrors of Atlesian fascism and deadly dances with their recent enemies.

* * *

A gentle creeping along her shoulder roused Ruby out of the nap she had somehow managed to take, in spite of the argument Gabriel and Roy were having about the navigation system. She looked out the window to see a blood-orange sky staring back at her, meeting with a deep ocean blue that didn’t even look like it was waving, before turning to see Blake next to her, lightly rubbing her hand along Ruby’s back. “Hey,” Blake said quietly. She glanced around, seeing practically half the airship asleep, save for their pilots and Zoya, who seemed like a watchdog as she surveyed the passing sea.

“Hey,” Ruby replied just as quietly, leaning into Blake. She rested her head against Blake’s, a muted sigh of contentment passing over both of them. Fighting the Riesenkrabbe, not to mention just fighting in the Whiteshirt headquarters, had taken a lot out of both of them. She could see it every time Blake twisted herself around – she claimed it was because a Beringel had swung at her and got a bit too close for comfort, but Ruby couldn’t help but worry maybe there was shrapnel from the multitude of explosions that they encountered outside.

Blake closed her eyes, pulling away for a second to undo her bow. Another sigh, this one borne out of relief, came from her as she tossed away the black silk, not caring where it landed. Her ears twitched as she took back her spot next to Ruby, tickling her head and causing her hair to flutter randomly. “God, that feels so good,” Blake muttered.

“How long has it been since you took that off?”

“Too long.”

Ruby could definitely believe it. It felt like just yesterday that Blake was holding on to Ruby tight, worrying herself sick about being in Atlas and afraid of her secret being uncovered. She squeezed Blake’s hand as she thought about not just the first day in Argus, but the way Blake had stressed herself out in the checkpoint. The only thing that confirmed to Ruby that Blake had been okay on that day was when she finally escaped the critical eye of the immigration officer, relieved that she had managed to convince him she didn’t have to take her bow off.

“Do you have to put it back on when we get to Vacuo?” Ruby asked. She’d never been to Vacuo – too far away and Dad didn’t much like heading there – and she had only heard rumors about what the people were like. Were they friendly? Part of Ruby hoped they were.

“I don’t think so,” Blake said, shaking her head. “It’s… well, I don’t really want to say _better_, but it depends on where we go.”

Ruby frowned, putting her other hand on top of Blake’s. “What do you mean?”

“A lot of people don’t really care if you weren’t born there, as long as you try to make an effort in living there. So… some Faunus like me go to Vacuo, scrape out whatever life they can, and some of those communities welcome them. But it’s like in Vale – they can say they treat us the same, but they really don’t.”

“Oh,” Ruby said quietly. “I’m… do you think we’ll run into that?”

Blake shook her head, followed up by a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t think I need to wear it, but… well, I guess I could just ask Gabriel where we’re going, and figure it out from there.”

She and Blake fell silent again, out of things to talk about. Occasionally, Ruby would hear a stifled grunt of pain from Blake, and become consumed with anxiety again. Far too often she had heard those sorts of noises before, and the panic that resulted always drove her crazy. Ruby feared that one of these days, she would take her friends, her family, her girlfriend to a hospital seeking aid, only to be turned away with a solemn “there’s nothing we can do.”

Ruby wasn’t sure if she could handle anyone else dying.

“Hey, are you alright?” Blake asked, looking up and wiping away a tear Ruby didn’t even know had formed.

She tried to mask her depression with a laugh. “I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I am, so let’s focus on _you_ instead,” Blake replied, sitting up straight. Try as she might, Blake couldn’t keep the wince of pain from Ruby. “What’s wrong, Ruby?”

A knot formed in her chest, almost as quickly as the facade of a smile slid off. She swallowed hard, wondering if she was actually short of breath, or if this was some weird coping mechanism she had. “I… well, I…” She had the words before. Where did they go?

“It’s okay,” Blake said, bringing Ruby’s hands together in her own, gently kissing them. “Take your time, love.”

Blinking, Ruby found her vision blurry. In the span of mere seconds, even more tears had formed, and the memories of Uncle Qrow and Jaune rushed back to her. Their ghosts seemed to haunt them, working in tandem with horrific images of her friends and Blake when they had been hurt and wounded, recovering in hospitals and bleeding through their bandages. Her eyes wrought with concern, Blake reached up wiped away Ruby’s tears again, smiling softly at her. How could she ever explain this to Blake? What sort of words could come even close to describing the agony that tore at her, the fear that paralyzed her every time she went to sleep?

“Is it about what the God of Light said to you?” Blake ventured, keeping her voice low.

“I… no, but…” Ruby sputtered, swallowing again. It was like everything in her mouth was pure cotton, with tiny glass shards poking out the entire way down her throat. She slammed her eyes shut as a stilted, abrupt sniffle rose out of her. When she opened her eyes again, all of Blake’s work had been for naught. “I really, really miss my Uncle Qrow. I miss Jaune. I don’t want _anyone else_ to… to…”

Blake slowly let out her breath, holding Ruby tightly. She let herself be enveloped by Blake, returning her embrace as best she could as her sniffling turned to outright sobbing. “It’s okay, honey,” Blake quietly reassured her. “Let it out.”

Ruby buried herself in Blake’s shoulder, feeling her hand run up and down Ruby’s back. She thought she had handled Uncle Qrow’s passing at Gabriel’s condo, but now… well, now the emotions seemed just as fresh as the day it had happened, like he had died just a few minutes ago. Part of her hated herself. She didn’t want to just be sitting here, crying on Blake’s shoulder when there was work to be done, not when Salem’s followers and the Relics were still out there with the fate of the world in the balance. Still, Blake acted like she was the only thing that mattered, gently reassuring her that it was all okay and that she was her for Ruby, always and forever.

Hands falling to her side, Ruby pulled back, trying to compose herself long enough to put on the same brave face she wore everywhere else. Blake held her at arm’s length, undoubtedly still worried about her. “Better?”

“Better,” Ruby said, nodding. Blake smiled, quickly pecking her on the cheek.

“We’ll be in Vacuo before we know it,” Blake said, snuggling back up to her.

Ruby sighed, resting back on the chair. The orange sky had begun turning blue as the sunset crossed beyond the horizon, only a few thin clouds breaking up the sight. “I know.” She leaned her head against Blake’s again, finding comfort in her hands. “I love you, Blake.”

“I love you too, Ruby.”

* * *

The arrival in Vacuo was inauspicious. Gabriel had discarded his long leather duster, instead just wearing black tactical pants and a black t-shirt that seemed to outline and highlight every muscle he had. Zoya swapped over to jeans, her usual boots, and a silver sleeveless shirt. Unseen up to this point were Zoya’s tattoos, memoirs of her time in the military including her rank, the emblems of the forces she served with, and a grand design that snaked up and down her arms that looked at home on any Gorizont building. Roy decided to take along a simple blue t-shirt and brown pants, sneakers the only thing between his feet and the ground. Meanwhile, Ren wore an outfit remarkably similar to the one he had in Mistral, only bothering to add a patterned scarf to keep sand out of his mouth and nose. Weiss discarded her sleeves in favor of a combat skirt and a V-shaped top that tied around her right side.

Pyrrha complemented her armor with shorts that reached her knees, a blouse fitting under her chest piece and newly-added shoulder guards. Yang picked up a brown leather cutoff jacket, complementing the pants she had decided to add to her style. Oscar, meanwhile, kept it simple with clothes that only barely were a step above what he had first appeared in, though the green influence from Ozpin was unmistakable. Nora left behind her bomber jacket to roll up her sleeves and keep fighting in her tall boots and signature pink skirt. Blake, meanwhile, took along a white haltertop and a black cape to protect her from the wind and sandstorms, complemented by pants with what looked to Ruby like a million zippers and tight-fitting shoes. As for Ruby herself, she took off only her long-sleeved shirt, any additional warmth or cover she might need provided by her standard cloak.

The eponymous City of Vacuo, the only thing that could reasonably be called a capital for any part of the continent. Starting from the outskirts, where they landed to be greeted by a light dust storm, small mud and wood buildings dotted the landscape, as if mounds of dirt spontaneously appearing from the ground to house a family or individual people. Larger stone buildings with stalks of grain used for a roof came up the closer they came to the city itself, until these too were replaced by multi-story buildings composed entirely of pale white or reddish-brown material, almost like concrete the closer Ruby got to it. Beams of rounded wood protruded from the roofs, with stepped construction to the taller buildings that only seemed to narrow the higher up it went.

The air smelled dirty, like there was a perpetual sickness that could never be shaken off. People wandered about the unpaved, wide streets without regard to anything other than themselves, with only beasts of burden hauling trailers to count for traffic. It was almost as if Vacuo on a whole was ten years in the past, almost like Ruby had teleported to an earlier era. Though, given the numerous weapons she saw on nearly every man, woman and child, maybe this wasn’t so distant a past as she thought. Out of the corner of her eyes, Ruby could see the Vacuoan citizens sizing them up as they passed, as if they were trying to figure out whether to leave them alone or not.

“Alright,” Roy said, twirling his bat around with a grand flourish before resting it on his shoulder. “So which part of this glorious fuckin’ dumpster fire are we going to?”

Blake scoffed, shaking her head. “Wow, be at least a _little_ nice. I hate Menagerie, but it still has good points about it.”

“Yo, I grew up here, I got a right to talk shit about it,” Roy countered.

A grumbling Gabriel muttered something, jerking his head to follow him as he headed down an alley. The CCT tower stood out like a sore thumb in the city, its shiny glass a bizarre contrast to the clay and concrete buildings around it. They followed Gabriel down narrow alleyways and claustrophobic halls enshrouded by archways, approaching the CCT as it only grew larger and larger in size until it dominated the entire horizon.

“We should find a hotel,” Oscar suggested. “Um… Salem’s allies might be on the lookout for us.”

“Good idea,” Gabriel said. “We’ll split up. Keep in touch with me on your Scrolls, half hour checks. Understood?”

“Got it,” Ruby said, as did nearly everyone else. They decided who would split up with whom fairly quickly – Oscar, Ruby, Yang, Blake and Weiss would head to one hotel, while Gabriel, Roy, Zoya, Pyrrha, Ren and Nora headed to another. The check-in was mostly uneventful, with the staff not particularly even caring if they had a way to pay for the room. Their philosophy seemed to be that guests of Vacuo were welcome to stay to learn what a grand mistake it was to visit Vacuo.

Their hotel room was the very textbook definition of dingy. The walls, painted a dull beige, were cracked and peeling, while the carpets had unknown stains covering them. The bedsheets weren’t in much better shape, yellowing from not being washed in who-knows how long, with fraying edges and tattered patterns. The TV in the room clicked once, and then immediately went straight to black. Well, that knocked out _one_ avenue of entertainment for the night.

“Wow,” Yang muttered, tossing her bag on the bed. “This… is something.”

“I hope to _god_ that there’s a decent shower here,” Weiss complained. “I feel dirty just stepping in this room.”

“So, what’s the plan for divvying up the rooms?” Blake asked. “I only count two beds in them, and last I checked we have five people.”

“Blake and I can take the other room, if you and Yang don’t mind sharing a bed,” Weiss volunteered. “That way, Oscar can have a bed to himself.”

Ruby nodded, already setting her things on a chair that looked cleaner than most anything else in the room. “That sounds fine. It’ll be like when we were kids, Yang!

“You sure about that?” Yang asked, arching an eyebrow. “Like, you don’t wanna hang with Blake?”

“We’re not joined at the hip,” Ruby said, laughing. “Besides, I can just go across the hall if I want to say hi.”

Yang thought this over, before eventually shrugging. “Alright, sure then.”

Blake gave Ruby a parting smile as she and Weiss evacuated the room, leaving Yang, Ruby and Oscar by their lonesome. Yang fell on the bed, ignoring the inherent uncleanliness to it as she settled in, whipping out her Scroll. Ruby took out one of the comic books she had neglected to finish on their adventures, with Oscar no doubt finding something to occupy his time as well. Night began to fall, with the dim glow of the yellow hotel lights buzzing in the background. She got lost in the adventures of the comic book heroes, fighting crime and going home to the status quo.

“Ruby, we gotta talk,” Yang suddenly said, slamming her Scroll on the bed.

Ruby blinked, rather confused about the situation. “Uh, okay. What about?”

Her sister groaned, sitting up and folding her legs together, a frown crossing her face. “Look, we’ve… been through a fuck of a lot lately, and… I dunno, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She blinked again. Where was Yang going with this? “Well… I _feel_ okay. Does that count?”

“Dude, you suck at lying,” Yang said, shaking her head. “Come on. The freakout that one night in Atlas? Did you already forget that? And… well, I didn’t want to interrupt you guys, but I heard you and Blake talking on the airship.”

All at once, Ruby’s heart stopped as she sharply inhaled. She felt her eyes widen, unsure if they could get any larger than they already were. Ruby had known that Blake and Yang used to be… a thing? An item? Crushed on each other? She didn’t even know the right words anymore, but Yang had never looked at them the same way since that night in Argus, when she walked in on the two of them cuddling one another in that bedroom. Back then, Ruby could have played it off, but if Yang had heard them say “I love you” to each other… well, then that would have erased any doubt in her mind.

“I… don’t think I should be here for this,” Oscar muttered, quickly rushing out of the room with a made-up excuse to go retrieve ice for their complementary murky water. He passed by them in a blur, Yang’s gaze unflinching.

“Yang, I-”

“I don’t care,” Yang said, sighing as she spread her arms out. She leaned back on the bed, casting her gaze off to the side regretfully. “I mean, I _did,_ and it fucking hurt for a while, but I’m a grown fucking woman, I can handle rejection now and then. Look, bottom line, if she’s happy with you and you’re happy with her, that’s all I care about, okay?”

Ruby finally found the strength to blink, the dusty air irritating her eyes. It felt like they were on fire. “I-I don’t get it,” Ruby said. “Then why-”

Her sister groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ruby, I’m worried about you. We… _lose_ Uncle Qrow one minute, then you have this breakdown the next, and… look, I’m scared, alright? We _all_ are. I want to make sure my sister’s not going to fucking leap off the nearest bridge when the opportunity presents itself, okay?”

Just as Ruby was about to answer, Oscar came back in. He carried a huge bucket of ice, staring at them wide-eyed as he came in. Ruby couldn’t help but break into rapacious laughter. He had actually held to his excuse of getting ice? Yang scowled, punching Oscar which caused him to drop the bucket. Honestly, it might have improved the floor.

Waiting until Ruby had finally stopped laughing, Yang gave her a weary look. “Okay, so answer me. I gotta hear you say it.”

“Yes, I’m okay, Yang,” Ruby said, nodding. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Yang glanced down, pondering this for a bit. Eventually, she nodded as well. “Alright then.”

“Are… _you_ okay?”

“With what?”

Ruby drew a hesitant breath, wondering how best to say it. Well, guess there wasn’t any harm in being direct. “Well… everything. Blake and I, Uncle Qrow…”

Yang sighed again, her downcast face telling Ruby pretty much everything she needed to know. Yang could hide a lot of things from Ruby, but she couldn’t hide the emotions that were written all over her face. She absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, sliding down to cup her chin as she looked at the stained floor, apparently lost in thought. “Yeah, I’m good,” she finally said. “I mean, yeah it sucks that I don’t get to be with Blake, but… she chose you. You guys look happy, so… like I said, I’m happy.”

For a moment, actual happiness broke through Yang’s downtrodden look, and Ruby couldn’t help but smile back. It was pretty rare that they had a chance to just be sisters like this, and the break from the usual was nice.

“I didn’t hear any of that,” Oscar meekly said, breaking the mood with a sledgehammer.

Yang scowled, launching a pillow at him and muttering “shut the fuck up,” prompting another round of cackling from Ruby. It felt _great_ to just _relax_ for once on their journey. When was the last time they’d been able to do this? A month ago at Atlas? Well, either way, it was ending soon. Tomorrow they’d head to the Vault, and secure the penultimate Relic. Either way, it was a big day ahead of her.

* * *

“Alright, this should be easy,” Oscar said as they approached the Vacuo Vault. It was a loosely-guarded place, only halfheartedly defended by bored local triggermen. They left almost as soon as Ruby and the gang arrived, with little else between the outside world and the Relic of Destruction, an ornate axe with what looked like enough gold to decorate a king’s crown, resting up against a wall with thousands of other weapons.

“Wow,” Ruby muttered in awe. “How did nobody take all this stuff before?!”

“The guards out there are actually pretty tough,” Oscar explained. “They’ve been handpicked to guard this vault for generations, trained to use everything in here.”

Heavy footsteps and the sound of clattering weapons emanated from behind them. “Such a shame the world won’t see them used,” an all-too-familiar voice said. She turned to see Arthur Watts, his sleeves rolled up and brandishing his weapon. Next to him stood Suka, Hazel, Tyrian, Headmaster L’Etranger, Emerald and Mercury, all prepared for combat.

Ruby looked to her friends and newly-found allies, sharply nodding. No going back now. They had to defend not just the Relics, but humanity’s survival.


	34. Resist and Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Vacuo begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to announce Zoya now has artwork! Many thanks to my artist, Justin Stebbins (aka Saber-Scorpion).
> 
> https://i.imgur.com/QGegl2a.jpg

Suka charged forward first, with Emerald and Mercury not too far behind. Ruby tracked Hazel and Watts splitting their approach, with the Headmaster disappearing with a puff of smoke and a cruel cackling that bounced off the walls of the Vault. Tyrian performed so many feats of gymnastics on his angle of attack that Ruby wasn’t even sure he knew which way was up. Either way, she unfurled Crescent Rose, lobbing shots at incoming enemies. When Suka came too close for comfort, she began using her shots to swing at the insane foe. Ruby immediately felt like she was fighting a phantom – her attacks were universally either too high, or too low as Suka rolled, dodged, and otherwise jumped out of the way just in time. Zoya joined in the fight in response, using her rifle in dangerously close quarters to overcome Suka’s limber defenses. Ruby began a whirlwind strike against Suka, only to have it stopped short when Emerald delivered a high-jump kick to Ruby’s side, sending her tumbling to the floor. Gunshots and the sounds of weapons clanging against each other bounced off the walls as Ruby scrambled to get up, creating enough space to more properly utilize her scythe’s reach.

Emerald studied Ruby for a second, almost like an animal analyzing its prey. Ruby would not allow herself to be so easily predicted, and ran forward with a shot to build up the momentum to swing at Emerald. Like Ruby predicted, she dodged the attack but Emerald did not expect the followup swing that caught her off-guard, sending Emerald to a far corner of the room. Ruby stopped tracking her to scan the area – Yang and Blake were busy tangling with Tyrian. Roy, Oscar and Zoya all had their hands full with Suka and now Mercury. Nora, Ren and Pyrrha found themselves locked in another showdown with Hazel and Watts.

That left only Gabriel, who was apparently having a gentleman’s duel with Headmaster L’Etranger. Ruby rushed to Gabriel’s side as the two men circled around one another.

“So, you need _children_ to do your bidding for you now?” the Headmaster asked, only barely glancing over at Ruby.

“I never liked you,” Gabriel replied, keeping his shotguns leveled at him. “I just wanted to let you know.”

Headmaster L’Etranger allowed the whispers of a smile to cross his face, nodding at Gabriel. “Queen’s rules?”

The scoff that followed from Gabriel must have been implicit confirmation. The Headmaster lunged forward with his knife, keeping one hand free to protect himself against wayward strikes. Gabriel blocked the incoming attack easily, putting his shotgun against the Headmaster’s face and firing once. Even thought Ruby knew it was merely a decoy, a trait inherent to his Semblance, she still found herself wincing and blinking in shock as the Headmaster’s head exploded, his limp body falling against the floor. His knife – or at least maybe a decoy of it – clattered as it fell.

“Oh dear,” the Headmaster’s voice said, a loud ringing noise accompanying him. “I’ve made quite a mess.”

Ruby swung around with Crescent Rose, whipping fruitlessly at the air. The Headmaster was gone, invisible again. She and Gabriel practically stood back to back, scanning the environment for any sign of the Headmaster and his ruse. Gabriel grunted, dropping one of his shotguns as a hand flew up to his face. “Fuck,” he growled, firing off his other shotgun randomly.

“Where is he?!”

A puff of smoke appeared in the corner of her eyes. The Headmaster had dropped the invisibility cloak, coming at her with deadly intent. Ruby blocked his attack, spotting Suka and Zoya chasing one another behind him. She shoved the Headmaster away, creating enough space for her to realign Crescent Rose in her hands. Just like at Gorizont, though, a deep bellowing horn filled the air, with a dull roar soon following.

“What the hell?” the Headmaster asked, pausing to stare at the entrance of the Vault. Ruby looked over as well. The White Fang was _here_ too? Hadn’t they been shattered after Gorizont? Adam Taurus descended from the ramp with another army behind him, which charged in to engage them without regard to side. Just like Gorizont all over again.

“Well then,” the Headmaster said, smirking as he looked at his watch and pressed some buttons. “I’ll be seeing you.” Within a second, he had disappeared again.

* * *

The deep report of Albina Fominchina’s rifle mixed with the whipping bullets that raced past her ears. Zoya shoved more and more rounds into her rifle until it physically could not hold any more, only whipping around when the twisting and confusing vault hallways turned to an open area. This must have been either a shrine, or some sort of keep for other weapons and treasures given the piles of glittering gold and ancient relics of a bygone era. The entire room was lit by oil lamps, and with the vault almost entirely underground, the darkness hid Albina Fominchina’s approach.

She could hear Albina Fominchina’s boots stomping on the stone floors, echoing off the abandoned and forgotten room as she swapped War Bride over to the scythe. Her breathing became rapid, a series of short huffs of air that betrayed not only her position, but how scared of Albina Fominchina she truly was. From the shadows, Albina Fominchina approached, having opted to abandon her rifle. The head of her maul dragged behind her, scraping along the floor with a murderous smile on Albina Fominchina’s face.

“We don’t have to do this! There’s still a part of you that I remember!” Zoya called out, her plea echoing feebly.

In response, Albina Fominchina merely laughed, taking up her warhammer into both hands. “You have escaped me for too long, Zoya Ivanovna,” she said, tilting her head curiously. “Today, you die.”

Zoya swallowed, gripping War Bride tightly. There really was no choice. She charged at Albina Fominchina, twisting herself around and swinging her scythe down, catching Albina Fominchina’s arm. This brought her to the floor, where Zoya pulled back with War Bride to drag Albina Fominchina along the broken stone. She got up quickly, just in time for Zoya to deliver three horizontal strikes that Albina Fominchina couldn’t block. As Zoya swung for the fourth hit, though, Albina Fominchina kicked her back. As she reeled from the blow, Zoya looked down to see her foe’s maul swinging at her, a strike she dodged quickly.

Expecting the dodge, perhaps, Albina Fominchina charged forward and grabbed Zoya by her neck, swinging Zoya back and up into the air. Her uncontrolled ascent and subsequent _de_scent left her vulnerable to attack, and as she slammed into the ground Albina Fominchina’s hammer fell straight into her gut, depriving her of precious oxygen. Like always, though, Albina Fominchina didn’t make clean kills. She wanted to play with her prey, prolong their suffering. This moment of cruel hesitation gave Zoya the time she needed to roll out of the way and get back on her feet.

Albina Fominchina charged at her again, keeping her head and weapon low. Zoya sidestepped out of the way, swinging her scythe wide to strike at Albina Fominchina’s back as she passed. This forced her to stumble, giving Zoya an opening to land two vertical strikes one after the other on her. She leaped up to kick at Albina Fominchina’s back, but with a speed that betrayed her dazed state, Albina Fominchina grabbed her and swung her around like a ragdoll, slamming her into the ground, followed up with another overhand blow to her chest. She grabbed Zoya again by her neck, slamming her back into the cold hard ground without mercy.

“You think you are special because of your eyes?!” Albina Fominchina shouted, kicking Zoya in the side to taunt her. “You are as special as the dirt on this floor!”

She coughed, feeling blood drain out of her nose. Her Aura couldn’t withstand the punishing hits that she was taking. Letting out a disgusted grunt, Albina Fominchina picked Zoya up once again, holding her up above with a single hand before launching Zoya across the room, sending her straight into a wrought iron fence that delineated the room and a minor keep. She shakily got up, steeling herself as a second wind came on.

Albina Fominchina charged at her, swinging horizontally. Zoya ducked underneath the incoming maul, jabbing War Bride’s snath at her stomach which forced Albina Fominchina to back off. She grabbed Albina Fominchina while she was still dazed, throwing her to the ground before hooking War Bride’s blade around her neck. Swinging with all her might, she tossed Albina Fominchina in a circle around her, watching her bounce off the floor while Zoya began swinging her scythe, building up momentum to deliver a crushing downwards strike. Albina Fominchina took the blow like a champ, as Zoya expected, rolling to the side and getting back on her feet with a firm scowl and hatred blazing in her eyes.

For the first time in this fight, Albina Fominchina activated her Semblance, her tattoos glowing a deep crimson red as Traitor’s Lament became infused with an equally red incandescent glow. She swung the maul at Zoya, which she tried to block but found pointless as Albina Fominchina switched the angle of attack to her feet, knocking Zoya to the floor. Another streak of red brought the maul down on her again, a favored tactic of Albina Fominchina’s. Zoya coughed again, feeling her Aura reach critically low levels. She rolled to her side, temporarily releasing her grip of War Bride as she got to her knees, blood positively flooding from her mouth and nose now.

Albina Fominchina smiled, looking down on Zoya in a position that was uncomfortably familiar. “You fool,” she growled, changing Traitor’s Lament back to the rifle. She pulled the bolt back, slamming it shut as a Dust cartridge shined back at her. Albina Fominchina clearly enjoyed this, staring at a weak and defeated Zoya as she leveled the rifle at her. The sights and barrel lined up perfectly in Zoya’s vision as she dared to stare back at the cruel eyes of Albina Fominchina. She paused, a cruel smiling crossing her lips. “Any last words, Zoya Ivanovna?”

“Yes,” Zoya replied, spitting out a glob of blood. “Fuck you.”

Albina Fominchina laughed, putting her cheek back against her rifle’s stock. Before she could pull the trigger though, gunshots rang out, but they weren’t from Traitor’s Lament. Albina Fominchina cried out in pain, thrown off-balance by the rounds hitting her. Confused, Zoya looked around, spotting Pyrrha shoving in a new clip as the old one _pinged_ away. Zoya immediately took advantage of the situation and grabbed War Bride, falling in line with Pyrrha who raised her sword and shield up. By now, Albina Fominchina had recovered, staring at the two with a look of mingled outrage and confusion.

“So, you stand together, hmm?” Albina Fominchina asked, swapping back to the warhammer. “Then you will die together!”

Pyrrha and Zoya counter-charged into Albina Fominchina, with Pyrrha’s sword clashing against Albina Fominchina’s armor. She could hear her foe swearing, rapid flurries of vulgarity that popped out spontaneously as Albina Fominchina’s swings against Pyrrha found no results, a product of Pyrrha’s Semblance. Zoya took the opportunity to continually hammer on Albina Fominchina, striking at her back with a barrage of attacks. She responded by swinging her maul wide, knocking Zoya and Pyrrha off their feet. Pyrrha was soon snatched up, and with a dramatic jump, Albina Fominchina brought Pyrrha down hard on her bent knee as they landed, with a loud, painful cry emanating from Pyrrha’s mouth. She rolled off, her sword clattering on the ground.

Zoya scrambled to her feet, charging forward and swinging wide only for Albina Fominchina to counter-charge right into her chest, using her head almost like a battering ram as her tattoos glowed again. Zoya found herself flying backwards, with Albina Fominchina quickly pursuing. She watched helplessly as Albina Fominchina wound up for another overhead strike, but right when it slammed down next to her, cracking the stone floor and sending chunks of it everywhere, Zoya saw that her attack had missed. She understood why in an instant – Pyrrha had used her Semblance to influence Albina Fominchina’s attack. This opportunity and surprise gave Zoya the space to change War Bride back to the rifle, reversing the role that she had been in mere moments ago. With a mere trigger squeeze, a spurt of blood escaped Albina Fominchina’s head as she fell backwards, her head jerking about as blood spewed forth. It cascaded onto the stone floor as she hit the ground, bleeding profusely seconds later.

“Is she dead?” Pyrrha asked, collapsing.

“Yes,” Zoya replied, working the bolt once and breathing heavily. The fight had nearly drained her, but she knew this war was far from over. “Where’s everyone else?”

Pyrrha groaned, standing up and retrieving her weapon. “Back in the main room. I… I followed you to help out, and… the White Fang are here, so-”

“What?” Zoya asked, wincing as an electric jolt of pain shot through her leg. She must have broken something. “Where’s Yang?”

Blinking, Pyrrha stuttered. “Uh, I think they went to the halls on the right. Wh-”

“I need to go,” Zoya said, limping away. She had to follow. She had made a promise to Yang, and she would _not_ break it. Not over something as stupid as a fight with Suka.

Before she could limp her way down the halls, Pyrrha stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Zoya turned, confused, but her friend had only a soft smile and a look of confidence to give her. “I understand,” she said. “Be safe out there, alright?”

Zoya laughed, nodding as she smiled back. “Of course. You too, Pyrrha.”

The two shared a brief hug, almost afraid that this may be the last time they see one another before breaking off to head back to their friends and respective fights. Zoya swallowed hard as she crossed the threshold to an uncertain fate, plunging into darkness once more.

* * *

All those years ago in Menagerie, Blake had looked at Adam with the sort of rose-tinted gaze only a lover could have. She had believed that he could do no wrong, and that her cause with him was noble and just. Today, as he stalked the gallery where she and Yang hid behind statues of kings and queens long since passed, Blake realized that the only thing her rose-colored glasses did was make the red flags look like regular flags.

“I know you’re out there,” Adam called, his voice with a positively ethereal quality to it as it bounced and echoed off the walls. “Come on, Blake. Just step out in the open. When I slit your throat, I’ll make it quick.”

She swallowed, involuntarily grabbing at her throat. Part of her feared that he could hear her every breath, every alarm bell that was ringing in her head as she and Yang huddled next to this statue, away from his patrol. He’d find them eventually, no doubt, and with the same anger wrought on his face that Blake had always seen when something went wrong or she dared to speak out to him, Adam would tear her apart limb by limb. That is, if he didn’t decide to simply exact his revenge in a far more intimate way.

Next to her, Yang was positively shaking, but Blake could tell she was trying to quell the rising tide inside of her. Truth be told, she was attempting the same thing. She grabbed Yang’s shoulder, silently unsheathing Gambol Shroud. “We have to do something,” she whispered.

Yang’s shoulders refused to stop shaking, even as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know, I know,” she replied. Yang shook her entire body, as if trying to force the jitters out through her usual method of extreme violence. “Alright. Let’s fucking kill him.”

Nodding sharply, Blake rose up alongside Yang, stepping around the statue to find Adam’s back to them. Once their footsteps reached his ears, he turned with a wicked smile on his face. “Ah, how excellent. I can start by killing this bitch first.”

“I’m gonna make you eat your own fucking dick!” Yang shouted, cocking back her gauntlets. She charged at Adam, lobbing shots the entire way as she unleashed a war cry that Blake hadn’t heard from her in years. Blake was right behind her, firing at Adam with Gambol Shroud as he stoically stood there, waiting for Yang to meet him. In a flash, he had unsheathed Wilt and Blush, trading blows with Yang’s gauntlets almost as fast as she could swing them at him. Blake joined in the melee as well, swapping over to the katana and attacking as well. It felt like every strike she made, he knew exactly how to block. Not surprising, really – they had sparred almost all the time back when she was in the White Fang, and he knew her like the back of his hand.

This didn’t much help her feelings of hopelessness, especially as he blocked one of Yang’s attacks and jabbed at Blake’s head, forcing her off-balance and reeling into a nearby statue. She rubbed her head as concrete and dust fell down on it, dazed and confused. The telltale sounds of Yang’s gauntlets firing combined with the distinct slicing noise of Adam’s sword cutting through the air told Blake all she needed to know. She stumbled back on her feet, taking an alternate path on the back of a winged horse statue to attack Adam from above. Her blade found its mark this time, slicing his clothes and causing him to shout out in pain. In an instant, he growled and swung back at her, matching the assault on his sleeves one for one.

Yang followed up with a devastating haymaker that sent Adam into a statue of a proud soldier, which he easily recovered from. He yelled as he charged, blocking Yang’s jabs and swinging at Blake. This time, he missed, giving Yang the opportunity to practically land an individual blow on every rib he had. Blake stabbed at him with Gambol Shroud, but this didn’t find any result as he sidestepped out of the way, dragging her arm and slamming her into another statue base. He spun around, kicking Yang out of the way before turning to face her. She tried to shuffle away, but he stopped her with a brutal kick to her gut.

“You useless fucking whore,” he growled, knuckles turning ashen white. “You can watch as I kill her, and then all of your other friends one by one. When I’m done with them, I’ll kill you slowly, watch the blood drain from your neck like the beasts we used to slaughter together.”

“Fuck you,” she replied, coughing.

He shook his head, turning around to continue his assault on Yang. She had other plans, however, as she leaped up and landed a Dust-charged punch right in his face. His mask broke, and now even Yang could see what he truly was. His eye was still bloody from the day she had left the White Fang, a result of their incredibly violent breakup. Blake had found back then that the only way to get away from Adam was to be stronger than him, and as a result when she left, she took his eye. Adam let out a bellowing, primal shout as if he was a Grimm that had just been exposed to the world in all its terror, lashing his arms out in a madness-induced attack that threw Yang to the floor, weakened. From where she was, she could see Yang’s mouth dripping with blood as she struggled to get up. Blake’s own Aura wasn’t doing much better. Every breath felt like agony, like she was being forced to swallow broken glass.

Adam gritted his teeth, grabbing Yang by the hair and lifting her up. He held his blade to Yang’s throat, facing Blake with the same insanity in his eyes that had forced Blake to leave in the first place. “This is the slut you tie yourself to?!” he demanded, acting as if he knew anything. “What do you even see in her?! What does she have that I don’t?!”

“A fucking heart,” Blake dared to reply, coughing again.

“Let’s _test_ that theory, shall we?” Adam asked, drawing the blade away from Yang’s neck. Despite her protests, he hitched his grip up, blood dripping off of his fingers as he leveraged Wilt and Blush around to angle at Yang’s chest. With Yang’s Aura completely broken now, he was free to start piercing her skin, driving the blade deeper and deeper into her flesh as blood began to run out like the dam had been broken.

A series of shots, overlapping one another, rang out as Adam started to drag his blade down. He dropped his weapon and Yang, reacting immediately to the shots that slammed against his chest. Zoya had come out of God-knows where, working her rifle’s bolt faster than Blake had ever seen in her life. Adam could not resist the incoming attacks for long, being forced back with each shot that hit him. Zoya’s rifle clicked, just in time for Blake to grab Gambol Shroud and scramble back to her feet. Time to end this. Adam had recovered quickly, closing his fist and bare-knuckle punching Blake as she tried to engage with him. The scraping sound of metal striking metal rang out as Zoya and Adam began to fight. Blake struggled to keep herself up, but rejoined the fight immediately regardless. Yang, despite bleeding profusely, also began to assist in any way she could.

The fight was about as seesaw and desperate as a fight for their very lives could ever be. Every time Blake thought they had pulled it back, Adam reversed their fortunes. Similarly, every time Adam gained an upper hand on them, Zoya or Yang or Blake saved the other from certain doom. Eventually, they all began to tire and it showed in their styles. No longer were there flourishes or advanced techniques. By now, their fight had descended to little more than a drunken brawl, with lethal consequences for the loser. Blake found Gambol Shroud heavy in her hands, despite all the effort she had gone into making it as lightweight as possible when she first built it.

Finally, an opportunity presented itself. Adam had let his guard down for only a moment, but a moment was all it took. Zoya swung wide at his feet, knocking him on the floor as Yang again slammed her fists into his torso. Blake however, took Gambol Shroud’s pointed edge and drove it directly into Adam’s chest, twisting it in even deeper to add insult to injury. Her blade scraped against his bones as a disgusting gurgling emanated from his lips, and without even realizing it, Blake had stabbed at his heart. His eyes glossed over as his breathing became more and more labored, and for good measure, she withdrew Gambol Shroud for only a second, stabbing him again to make sure he was dead. A final ghost of a moan left his lips, signaling his death rattle and the end of Adam Taurus’s life. So too did his threat to Blake, her team, her friends, her _family,_ end.

She let go of Gambol Shroud, the weapon still sticking out of Adam’s now lifeless body as she collapsed, leaning against the base of a statue which was oddly cool to the touch. Every inch of her felt dirty, like she had been caked in a noxious mix of sweat, tears, blood and dirt from the environment. Similarly, Yang and Zoya fell by her side, both on her right side almost like they had decided to take a seat all in a row.

“I told you I’d be here for you,” Zoya said to Yang, panting heavily. “See? We killed him together. I promised.”

“You did,” Yang muttered. “Hey, Blake. You okay?”

She sighed, swallowing hard. Her mouth was impossibly dry, like it had been drained of all liquid for some sort of bizarre procedure. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “He… he’s really dead, huh?”

“I can shoot him if it’d make you feel better,” Zoya chimed in, spitting out a blob of blood. By chance, it landed right on Adam’s untainted eye.

Blake shook her head slowly. “No, that’s… that’s okay. I… are we done yet?”

“I don’t think we are,” Yang said. Her hand slipped into Blake’s, tightly squeezing it. If she was delusional, Blake might have thought Ruby was by her side, silently reassuring her it was all going to be alright.

Ruby. _Ruby._ Grunting as her body cried out in protest, Blake extracted herself off the floor, pushing against her good knee to allow herself to stand up. “Where’s Ruby?” she asked, suddenly hyperfocused on everything around her. She could hear distant gunshots, muffled by the distance and the twisting halls that had brought them here. “Is she okay?!”

“We can go find out,” Zoya said, propping herself up with her rifle. “I’m sure they need our help.”

“We’re not in any shape to fight,” Yang said, shaking her head.

Blake coughed, ignoring the sharp stabbing in her chest as she yanked Gambol Shroud out of Adam. “We have to try! We didn’t come all this fucking way just to give up!”

Zoya shrugged, cradling her rifle in her hands as she looked at Yang. “She has a point.” She extended a hand to Yang, bracing herself to help Yang up. “Comrades?”

Yang stared back at the hand, before glancing up at Blake and then Zoya. Begrudgingly, she grabbed Zoya’s hand, straining against herself as she got up off the floor. “Comrades,” Yang declared.

“Alright,” Blake said, nodding and turning to head towards the growing sounds of the final battle. “Let’s go finish this!”


	35. Live by Knowledge, Not by Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby battles Tyrian as the fight for Vacuo draws to a close.

A chill ran down Ruby’s spine as she stared at Tyrian. They danced in a wide circle with one another, silently daring the other to move first. When they had first met in Mistral, she had been terrified of him, scared beyond all belief that somebody had been sent to specifically hunt her down and kill her. Now, however, it was more of an annoyance, the sort of thing that irritated her about as much as a fly landing on her shoulder. Still, that didn’t stop Ruby’s breathing from being shallow and refused to steady her hand that shook uneasily. Tyrian’s wicked smirk and infrequent maniacal laughter only served to further add to her stress.

Tyrian stepped off first. He charged at Ruby with his wrist blades extended, whirling around like a dancing dervish as his insane laughter rang hollow in the massive vault. Ruby kept up her guard, shoving him back occasionally, yet it was only ever for a mere moment. She fired off a shot, using the recoil to propel Crescent Rose into a wide horizontal swing when he gave her the opportunity, but he expected it, ducking underneath her strike and landing a blow right underneath her chin, sending her up in the air and flying backwards. Ruby recovered quickly, implanting Crescent Rose’s blade into the ground and halting her flight. With Tyrian rapidly approaching, Ruby began working her scythe hand over hand, building up manual momentum to block more of his attacks. He yelped, backing off with an acrobatic skill as dead space replaced their close-quarters brawl.

“Ah, the thorny Rose. How brave were you, I wonder, when the crow that flew fell to the ground?”

Ruby paused, quietly gasping. Every memory she ever had of Qrow flooded back to her – the first time he had let her hold Harbringer, when he had guided her on building and designing Crescent Rose, the first time they sparred with one another, and every afternoon they spent playing Midnight Blade and Bulletscape on the couch at Dad’s. She gritted her teeth as her grip on Crescent Rose grew so tight she was almost afraid she’d break the titanium alloy frame, letting out a long, drawn-out war cry she didn’t know she had. To her, it was a final hurrah, a way to reach out beyond the void, a promise to Mom, Uncle Qrow, and Jaune, that she would see this foe who had brought her so much pain and destruction dead. It was the only method she knew of to ultimately declare that she would not rest, never cease her fighting, so long as someone who had assailed her family and friends still lived to see another day. Ruby scarcely held to the technique that Qrow had taught her all those years ago at Signal. Her attacks were hate-filled, unrefined, only focused on draining as much of Tyrian’s Aura that she possibly could with each successful hit.

And yet, few if any of her attacks landed. He dodged, ducked, blocked, and generally just frustrated her even further, causing Ruby to further disregard technique and focus only to lunge out with Crescent Rose and try to at least _touch_ him with the blade. He dared to _laugh_ at her, jabbing at her side with his wrist blades as if to pour salt in the wound. “My, my! Such fire! I wonder how you’ll act when your friends die around you!”

“_I’ll __fucking__ kill you!_” Ruby shouted, resuming her relentless assault on Tyrian. She felt tears roll down her face as she charged at him again and again, sometimes landing a blow, other times just barely missing. He continually poked and prodded her, as if he was more playing with Ruby than actually fighting her. Tyrian blocked every blow she threw his way, striking back with an intensity that stung at her every time she dared to breathe with lightning-quick attacks and reversals that had her constantly on edge. He somersaulted backwards, creating space as Ruby began firing at him in an attempt to throw off another attack. This seemed to be in vain, since he just ducked underneath her shots.

Ruby advanced, leveraging Crescent Rose’s length to close the distance and stop him from being able to match her in close quarters. It felt like he expected this, blocking the incoming attacks with some strange acrobatic block using his feet, jabbing at her with his prosthetic tail. There was no poison – not that she knew of, anyway – but each hit reminded Ruby of that day in Mistral when they had first met, how Pyrrha had nearly died because of him. She screamed as she let loose another wide horizontal attack, which finally caught on Tyrian’s body. His confident, madness-filled smirk quickly faded, replaced by a look of pain. Ruby realized that she had broken through his Aura with a single blow, Crescent Rose’s blade cutting clean through his torso.

He looked down on the steel that stuck out of his stomach, as blood seeped rapidly on his clothing. With a halfhearted gasp, he looked back up at Ruby, almost as if praying for his life. Ruby did not feel sympathy for him, putting her foot on his chest and shoving him off Crescent Rose. Tyrian fell to the floor, twitching as he tried to stop the bleeding. The burning anger and hate rising in her, Ruby stepped over to Tyrian with Crescent Rose resting against her shoulder. She raised the muzzle to his head, firing once and working the bolt cleanly. One threat down. Who was next? Ruby heard murmuring. Was that implicit approval from the Gods for how she handled Tyrian? She couldn’t tell. A yelp rang out, Ruby to scan again. Nora and Ren lay on the floor, wounded and writhing in pain as Hazel and Headmaster L’Etranger began to corner Weiss.

Ruby sprinted to her teammate, blocking a bare-handed strike from Hazel with Crescent Rose. She and Weiss stood side by side, staving off attacks from the two men as Gabriel, Oscar and Roy contended with Watts in the other side of the room. Using every trick she had, Ruby countered punches, blocked stabs, and began to slowly whittle away at Hazel’s Aura. He was tough, that much was certain, and the chunks of raw Dust sticking out of his arms that made every yell and scream from his mouth feel even louder did not hinder his own natural strength. Ruby had opted to focus primarily on Hazel, with Weiss and Headmaster L’Etranger behind her sparring as if more like in a duel than a fight for their lives.

She realized that the Gods, once mere faint whispers in her ear, were now slowly growing louder. They were almost instructing her, informing Ruby exactly where to strike and when to let her guard down, rattling off Hazel’s vital statistics like commentators for the Vytal Tournament. For all their assistance and blessings, though, even their help could not win this fight for her. Ruby cut, slashed and struck at Hazel as much as her strength and stamina could, but he never seemed to tire for even a moment. Even when he did break off to readjust his position, it was more like a wild Boarbatusk solidifying its footwork for another charge rather than a trained warrior taking a break. Crescent Rose felt heavy in her hands as she swung at him, finding herself relying on firing shots to gain speed and power more than usual.

A long, drawn-out war cry came from her side, and before she knew it, Pyrrha had joined back in the fray. She had wounds that weren’t there prior, fresh bruises appearing on her arms and what little of her back was exposed. Pyrrha knocked Hazel down with a wild shield bash, standing over him with her sword in hand. He groaned, before gritting his teeth and knocking Pyrrha off her feet. This distraction, however, gave Ruby the space she needed to renew her attacks on Hazel. She began to spin Crescent Rose hand over hand, alternating between high and low hits that Hazel was unable to predict and defend against. An oddly familiar noise – that of Headmaster L’Etranger’s death cry and his body hitting the floor – rang out, but she ignored it. He had faked his death too many times for her to be fooled by it now. If anything, the Headmaster had probably run away again.

Hazel finally caught Crescent Rose’s blade, shoving Ruby to the side. She hit the floor hard, practically bouncing off of it as she slid around and accidentally released her grip. Ruby looked up to see him towering over her, grabbing her cloak and throwing her once more upon the ground, her Aura shattering as it did. Weiss’s shrill shriek drew Ruby’s eyes, to which she could see her friend had been attacked by a clearly alive Headmaster L’Etranger. Myrtenaster lay on the floor as blood dripped off of Weiss’s hand, a long cut just above her elbow that stained her shirt with bright crimson. Pyrrha had been stopped by the Headmaster as he broke her arm, forcing Pyrrha to drop her sword.

Ruby looked back up at Hazel, death in his eyes. He breathed heavily, his body shimmering. His Aura must be gone as well. She could do little else but stare up at him, feel the pain that had consumed every part of her. By now, the Gods had gone quiet. Even they had abandoned her in her time of need. Hazel rolled his shoulders back, before taking out another loose piece of green Dust and slamming it into his bicep. The spent pieces, dull in color, practically fell off him and left pits in his body, shattering as they hit the floor.

“I don’t like this,” he said. “But it has to be this way.”

“No it doesn’t,” Ruby said, shaking her head weakly.

Hazel blinked only once, taking a deep breath. “I’m afraid it must. I’m sorry, little one.”

Just as he raised his fist up, a shot rang out. Ruby watched a splash of blood burst out of him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Hazel’s limp body crumpled over on the floor, prompting the Headmaster to turn his head at his former ally. He stared in confusion, furrowing his brow. “What the hell-” he muttered, before looking to the source of the shot. Another one rang out, which Ruby tracked to now be from Zoya’s rifle. Another death yell, another dead Headmaster. Was he actually dead? She wasn’t sure, and Ruby was not terribly inclined to find out. Yang and Blake ran over, both practically tackling her as a final definitive shotgun blast echoed through the room.

“Sound off!” Gabriel yelled. “Everyone good?”

A wooden clattering sounded out. Through Blake’s hair and Yang’s scratched arm, Ruby saw Zoya and Roy slam into one another, wrapping themselves up in a tight hug. Pyrrha and Weiss helped each other head over to Ren and Nora, both of whom were recovering. Gabriel and Oscar seemed to be decently alright, all things considered. One by one, they sounded off declaring they were either safe, or wounded but still alive. Right now, that was all that mattered.

“So, what’s the next step?” Zoya asked, leaning against her rifle with Roy doing his best to keep her up.

Gabriel groaned, shoving new cartridges into his shotgun. He moved with a pronounced limp as he headed into the center of them, with Oscar by his side. “First thing’s first, we get the Relic. Roy, you-”

A terrible roar filled the air. Though their human and Faunus enemies had retreated or been killed, the Grimm did not seem to want to follow this order. Ruby’s heart sank into the deepest depths as she stared at a monstrous army charging at them, with all manner of beasts and horrors that she had never even imagined possible before. As weak and broken as they were, they would be easy pickings for this assembly of nightmares. Ruby tried to get to her feet, coughing as the sharpness in her lungs stabbed deep and sent waves of pain through her. She could barely even find the strength to breath. How could she hope to fight all these Grimm? They overwhelmed her friends and family almost immediately, piling upon Yang, Blake, Weiss, Zoya all in a blur of black, white and red. Just like at the farm, Ruby could feel herself peering into the future, watching countless scenarios of endless destruction playing out in front of her. Each peek was more horrible than the last.

_Your gift,_ a voice called out. _Use it._

She didn’t know exactly what the voice was. It didn’t sound like the Gods. It definitely wasn’t Jaune. Ruby couldn’t say she had ever heard the voice before in her life, but it was… comforting, almost. Like it had been watching out for her all this time, and only now reminded her that she could do these things and help save her friends. Ruby swallowed, another aura of white cascading over her eyes. This time, instead of being knocked out, Ruby could feel the Grimm disappearing and dying in front of her.

Strangely enough, her vision no longer was white, but almost faded in to color. What she saw was not the dark, Grimm-filled room that she had filled with holy light, but… Patch? It looked like the part that faced the Mistral Sea, but… why was she seeing Mom’s grave? There was a figure, with a white hooded cloak on, facing away from Ruby. Or, at least, whatever Ruby’s mind was conjuring up. As if drawn to it, Ruby headed towards the figure, with a sinking feeling that she knew exactly who she was heading to.

Slowly, the hooded figure began to turn. Their hands moved up, revealing black sleeves that turned the hood down. This in turn revealed medium-length black hair, that turned to red at the tips. It was none other than Mom. She turned to face Ruby, a warm smile on her face as the sun set in the background, silhouetting her perfectly as Ruby drew ever closer. It felt like she was saying something to Ruby, but the words sounded muddled and hazy, as if Ruby was underwater. Was this who she had heard? She couldn’t tell – Ruby had never heard Mom’s voice before.

Ruby felt her chest turn into a knot, her eyes glassy now. She wiped at her face as if that would stop the tears from coming, gasped quietly like that’d do anything to suppress the disquiet in her soul. She had wanted for so, so long to see her mother, in _any_ fashion, that actually having Mom in front of her was like she had reached out and gone to the grave again. Growing up, Ruby had felt that her mother could fly around any corner, just like it had felt when Jaune had died.

_It’s okay._

She dared to blink. In an instant, the entire scene was gone. Ruby had been teleported away from Patch’s cliffs back to the dusty Vacuo vault, where her friends and family held themselves tightly as the wisps of dead Grimm faded away to nothing. Her knees collided with the ground, her exhausting becoming so serious that Ruby felt she could spit it out right here and now. Tears rolled off her face, dripping onto the floor below as her team, her friends and family collected themselves. Before she knew it, Blake was by her side, straightening her up and holding Ruby tight. She was squeezing Ruby so much, it felt like she was afraid _Ruby_ would drift away like the Grimm.

A calm fell upon the vault. They had spent so much time fighting and traveling, that Ruby had scarcely remembered what it felt like to _not_ be busy planning for another fight, or running away to survive. She held Blake close as well, hoping that some day soon, they could escape all this. Not just her and Blake, but _everyone_ in this vault. Nobody deserved a life like this, especially not half the people here who had just been happenstance thrust into this.

“Okay,” Ruby said, breathing deeply as she stood up. “Okay. Where’s the Relic?”

“Right here,” Oscar said, holding the axe. It seemed like it was incredibly light in his hands, barely even an effort for him to hold, much less wield.

Roy clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly. “Alright, fuck yeah! Let’s make like a tree and leave this fucking place to get the next Relic, yeah?”

“There’s… a problem,” Oscar sighed, casting his gaze down. “We… don’t really have to go far.”

Zoya groaned, still leaning on her rifle. “That sounds like the _opposite_ of a problem.”

Similar questions and interrogative complaints rose out of Ren, Nora, Weiss and Yang. If the next Relic was so close, why was it this much of an issue? Each provoking question seemed to make the pensive look on Oscar’s face more and more concerned. “It’s a problem,” he said, sighing heavily, “because Ruby is the last Relic.”

“What?” Ruby asked, blinking. This made even less sense than anything else she had learned on this journey, and _that_ was saying something. “What do you mean?”

“Stop bullshitting us!” Yang shouted, picking herself off the ground and balling her fists up. “You’re fucking lying! Ozpin said it was underneath Beacon, he told us to our faces!”

“No,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “He said it was somewhere that Salem couldn’t get to it. That’s not the same thing.”

“He said the same thing about the Relics in the Academies,” Pyrrha said, cradling her broken arm in her good hand. “So why do you think that Ruby’s the last Relic?”

Oscar sighed, tilting his head as if he was incredibly regretful of something. “Because he told me. You know that we have the same memories now, and… that means I know where he hid all the Relics. Ruby is the last one, I _know_ how crazy it sounds, but it’s the _absolute truth._”

“You’re fucking lying!” Yang shouted again. “Why keep this from us?!”

“I… I thought we could figure out how to get around it, but-”

“Then why not tell us earlier, fuckin’ genius?!” Roy demanded.

“I thought he was lying!” Oscar shouted, throwing the Relic of Destruction to the floor. “Wouldn’t you think the same thing, after all he kept from you?! All the lies he told, the things he said he didn’t do?! If _you_ were _me,_ wouldn’t _you_ think he was making it up for some… I don’t know, sick, twisted, disturbed plot?!”

The room fell silent again as they mulled this over. Ruby, still trying to figure out how to come to terms with all this, swallowed again. This one felt like a tree had been lodged down her throat, and it was on her to figure out how to get it down without splinters consuming her entire body. “It makes sense to me,” Ruby weakly answered.

Gabriel, meanwhile, had pinched the bridge of his nose without end. “Alright, so how do we get this Relic _now?_ What’s the plan here?”

Another pause crashed in, as Oscar merely stood there. It felt like everyone had become intensely attuned to his every action, just waiting for him to say something. His lips danced around, alternating between starting sentences and stopping them before they ever left his mouth. “We have to kill her,” he said, with all the gravitas and finality such a fate demanded.

“No,” Blake said, tears flowing down from her eyes like a river as she cupped Ruby’s face in her hands. “No, no, no no no no no, _please_, anything but that. Tell me he’s lying, honey, _please._ I can’t live without you.”

“I…” Ruby said, finding herself completely at a loss for words. “I… I don’t know.”

“What the _fuck?_” Yang asked, more accurately demanded, stomping over to Oscar and hoisting him up by his shirt. “I fucking told you and Ozpin _both_ back in Atlas, _stop fucking lying!_ This _bullshit_ about my sister having to die, it’s not fucking true! Tell us how we _really_ get the Relic!”

“What reason do I have to lie?!” Oscar asked. “Ask Jinn if you don’t believe me!”

Yang groaned, shoving Oscar to the ground. She began to pace in a circle, clutching her head as if this was all giving her a massive headache. The others stared at each other in shock, trying to reconcile this new information with everything they knew and had learned so far. For Ruby, though, all she could do was blink.

It felt like her entire life was now pointless. Was this the grand design that the Gods had told her about? Was this truly her fate, to just be a vehicle for the Relics, to carry whatever it was only to be killed when convenient? Between Yang’s outbursts of anger, Blake’s tearful pleas that this simply couldn’t be true, and the befuddled looks on her teammates and friends, Ruby was having a hard time trying to figure out what to feel. She wanted to join Blake in mourning a life together that they’d never have, match Yang’s rage in being predestined to die, and also just sit here in stunned silence, wondering what was true and what wasn’t.

Ruby looked first to Blake, still pleading with her. In Blake’s face, wrought with pain and terror, she saw a life she always wanted for both of them in her eyes. It was as if she could see into the future, watch their lips grow thin together and tired jokes repeated with a polite laugh and a squeeze of the hand. If Ruby held to the prophecy that had been declared, then this life would never exist. She would never see the love of her life ever be truly happy again. Ruby didn’t even have to be a seer of events yet to happen to speculate on that – she could hear Blake declare it, that she would rather die than live a life without Ruby.

She looked at Yang, her anger boiling over as it always had when the chips were down and all hope seemed lost. Even from here, Ruby could feel the heat emanating from her, no doubt a result of the cruel injustices life had given her. First the world took away Mom, then Qrow, and now it had decided that she was to lose Ruby as well? If it had been reversed, Ruby would probably be just as angry, if not angrier. She’d never seen Yang this incensed before, though. This was the sort of fury that she had only ever gotten a glimpse at before, but hidden underneath the rage and violence was a sadness. Ruby could tell that the anger-filled tears weren’t just a product of her sister’s hotheaded nature, it was the only way she knew how to mourn her family.

Weiss’s eyes were full of tears, almost as full as Blake’s, as she silently stared at Oscar and Ruby. She and Weiss hadn’t gotten to the best of starts, but through it all they had become the best of friends and – if what Ruby suspected to be true was – the best thing to replace her family that was as indifferent and cold as Atlas itself. Weiss claimed Winter as her sister, but Ruby suspected that she believed Blake, Yang and herself were her sisters as well, if not by blood then by sheer proximity and shared life. Weiss looked like she had been pierced with a spear, as heartbroken as when she learned they were going to Atlas again.

Pyrrha had fallen to her knees, her broken arm hanging by her side as a hollow, empty look consumed her friend’s green eyes. Her mouth hung agape, like she refused to accept what she had been told and had never even heard it in the first place. They met eyes just once, a glance that Ruby thought was consumed by hopelessness and utter despair. Pyrrha had stood by her side for so long, they’d fought together so many times it was almost impossible to count. Hell, Ruby had carried Pyrrha when nobody else would, when the world was sure she would die and Ruby dared to spit in the face of Death itself to tell it no.

Ren and Nora, inseparable as ever, held each other up. Ruby could tell their foundation was shaking. Loss had been a hallmark of their lives, and now they had to face it again? Ruby wished that she could help them and undo the pain that had been levied upon the pair, but it was looking like that was impossible.

Roy and Gabriel did not have the same extreme emotions as Ruby’s friends. No doubt, Gabriel only saw this as a job, but even he didn’t look like he wanted anyone else to die. He brooded silently, tight-lipped as they sobbed and mourned around him. Was Gabriel trying to figure a way out of this? Roy had his arm around Zoya, probably feeling incredibly sorry for all of them, but he was only invested because they had stolen his boat. Unless, of course, his bruised face hid genuine grief for them.

Finally, Ruby looked to Zoya. One-time foe, one-time rival, now friend for what felt like the rest of a life that was far too short, Zoya leaned on her rifle and stared at her. Their silver eyes met one another, and though she claimed that she didn’t have the same powers that Ruby did, it felt like there was an unspoken bond between them that transcended the physical realm. Ruby looked at Zoya and felt that at once she knew exactly what she was thinking, how she felt. Zoya was truly feeling their loss, but Ruby couldn’t tell if that loss was nearly as intense as when she had lost Mikhail and Nikolai.

They still had one question left. Oscar had a salient point – if there was ever any doubt, any question as to whether he was telling the truth, Jinn would see through any part of Ozpin’s subterfuge. He could fool them with ruses, but he could not fool Jinn. In the midst of Blake’s heavy sobs and another profanity-laden rant from Yang, Ruby unhooked the Relic of Knowledge from her hip. The lamp grew from a small curio to a mid-sized lantern, like she was about to use it to go spelunking. It began to glow, as if sensing her question and waking Jinn up to listen to her request.

“Jinn,” she asked quietly. “Am I the final Relic?”


	36. The End of the War to End All Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby finds out the truth.

Jinn’s smoke enveloped them once more, as she transported them to another realm of reality. Ruby found herself in a white not dissimilar to the one she had been in when speaking to the God of Light. She didn’t know if her friends were with her in this vast emptiness, but if Jinn’s response to Ruby’s question worked like it had last time, then anyone who was nearby would surely see the same things she did. She saw all sorts of images appear in front of her, from the creation of the Relics to how Ozpin scattered them, sealing each one away in massive vaults of his own design, guiding the precursors of generations of influential leaders in their construction.

Slowly, the vaults and old kings faded away. Ozpin, wearing one of his many faces of his long life, burst into one of the vaults somewhere distant and far away. He was wounded, bloody, an arrow sticking out of his plated armor. He stumbled in, coughing up blood as an unseen battle raged outside the doors that he had come through. Ozpin’s breathing was heavy, labored, like he had just fought a thirty year’s war in ten minutes. He clutched at his shoulder, shakily advancing towards a pedestal in the middle of the room, where a holy light shined down on a golden apple, shining brightly and reflecting everything opposite of it like Ozpin’s outstretched hand. This must have been the Relic of Choice.

“No longer,” he declared, to whom Ruby wasn’t sure. He put the Relic in a bag, before turning back to the raging battle that was ongoing just beyond the doors. In a blink, this scene faded out as Ozpin was shown living his life, hiding the Relic in various places and protecting it from Grimm attacks and pursuing allies of Salem regardless. He lived thousands of lives, each one cut short by the duty to protecting the Relics at all costs as he was chased across Remnant. She watched him attempt all methods to hide the Relic from Salem, but each one failed in turn. Every time he tried a new trick, she tracked it down and dispatched allies to find it.

At least, up until her parents were born, and Team STRQ graduated from Beacon.

Ruby watched the scenes of Ozpin’s failures fade out, replaced by a sight she was very familiar with. It was home, but not the one she had left two years ago. In this timeline, her room was set up for a small child, decorated with all the items, toys and other things necessary to keep a newborn baby entertained and happy. Ruby began to realize that these were all things for _her,_ things that she had and forgotten about up until this moment. She could practically pick out the toys she had played with for years until discarding them for more grown-up things like Yang had.

The room was dark, until somebody turned on the lights. Here Mom entered, with Ozpin close behind. Both had grim looks on their faces, like there was some sort of grave event ongoing that demanded the utmost caution and attention to it. Her mother sighed, smiling softly as Ruby babbled incoherently as babies are wont to do. She watched Mom reach down, tenderly running her hand over Ruby’s tiny head.

“You… haven’t said much since I arrived,” Ozpin said, clasping his hands behind his back. He wore the long coat that had been his typical style while acting as Beacon’s headmaster, concealing practically everything about him alongside his round green glasses.

“Because I know what you’re going to say,” Mom replied.

There was a long pause between them, only interrupted by the noises Ruby occasionally produced. She couldn’t figure out what was going on here. Jinn wouldn’t show her something unrelated to what happened with the Relic, right? So why was this being shown to her? What was the purpose of forcing Ruby to watch Mom and Ozpin stand over her crib at some random point in time? Really, right now all it was doing was wishing she could speak to her mother, call out to her from beyond time and space and hope that she knew how much Ruby missed her, how much she wanted to have grown up with her there. Though, there was a strange quality with seeing the past through Jinn’s incredibly clear prism – all the pictures she had seen of Mom had been with her happy, smiling. Here, there wasn’t even a hint of joy to her face.

“Why is this necessary?” Mom asked, staring at Ruby’s crib. Her eyes were full of anxiety, not to mention concern and fear. Not just fear of Salem, but fear of the unknown, no doubt.

Ozpin stood behind her, adjusting his glasses. “You know why. Her silver eyes mark her as a threat alone. Salem cannot know the true location of all the Relics. By doing this, we… ensure… that Salem can never destroy Remnant. She will spend Ruby’s entire lifetime in a fruitless search, during which I can destroy her and eliminate her threat.”

The war that raged in her mother’s mind could only be speculated on. How cruel a decision, to marry her child to a world-bending Relic that had astronomical powers and a seeker with a lethal, unrelenting drive to acquire it. Ruby could only watch, a silent spectator to the entire affair, as her mother mulled over her possibilities. Ruby heard her younger self coo, a tiny hand reaching up to wrap itself around Mom’s finger.

“I have one condition,” Mom said, not even taking her eyes off Ruby for a moment. “If you can’t promise it, with all your power and knowledge, then I will not consent.”

“Name it,” Ozpin said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anything you need or want, and I’ll guarantee it.”

“She is _not_ to be a Huntress,” Mom declared. “I don’t want to hear her even entertaining the thought. Destroy memories, plant false ones, scare her into staying a normal girl with a normal life in any way you have to. I just want my daughter _safe._”

The pair paused, and when she received no response, Mom whipped around. Her silver eyes were concealing a great rage, the sort of fury only a mother could ever have when their child’s life was on the line. “Alright,” Ozpin said, nodding slowly. “So it shall be.”

Ozpin sighed, producing the Relics of Creation and Choice. He headed to the crib, gingerly placing the Relic of Choice on Ruby, then tapped her just as gently with the Relic of Creation. In an instant, the Relic of Choice was gone, a slight blue aura emanating around Ruby for a split second. Mom’s eyes welled up with tears, and she turned away from both Ozpin and Ruby. Soon enough, this scene faded out with no further explanation.

She found herself now in Ozpin’s office at Beacon. It must not have been too long after the meeting with her mother, where he had tied Ruby and the Relic together. It seemed he was working on something, or at least maintaining the appearance of it. A knock came at his door, causing him to look up. Glynda Goodwitch came in, a concerned look on her face.

“Headmaster,” she aid, bowing her head. “We… have a problem.”

“What is it?” Ozpin asked, curious.

Glynda swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as she looked down. “Summer Rose… is dead. She died on the mission in Kuchinashi.”

Ozpin paused, his face betraying no emotion or inner thoughts. His eyes flicked down, before he wet his lips and stood up. “Well then. We have work to do, don’t we?”

“Do you want me to initiate the Moonlight Protocol?”

“At once.”

A series of images passed in front of her now. Scenes of Uncle Qrow, Yang, and Dad all having memories replaced, ones that told them that Ruby had always had a dream of being a Hunter, and that she accepted nothing less. Peeks of Ozpin staring at a distance, watching Uncle Qrow and Ruby spar with one another. Dropped hints here and there to people in positions of power to give Ruby a chance. All of it culminated in a clear and present plan. Ozpin had always had a backup, and that backup was to make sure Ruby would be able to bring together the Relics for Ozpin to use when he needed. Finally, image on image faded out, until only Jinn appeared in front of her. She seemed genuinely remorseful, her arms folded as she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Ruby Rose,” she said, before bowing deeply and disappearing.

* * *

Ruby was brought back to reality as the smoke faded. Shocked faces surrounded her, save for Oscar’s which held a look of resigned defeatism. He sighed heavily, looking down at the floor as they looked to him. “So, you see now,” he muttered quietly. “I’m… well, _we_ aren’t lying to you.”

Where there had been rage, intense sadness, and the grief to match a thousand funerals, now there was only a grim, fatalistic outlook. Blake still clutched Ruby close, and Yang’s fists were so tightly clenched, Ruby was almost afraid that her knuckles would break free at any second, while Weiss, Ren, Pyrrha and Nora looked on in stunned silence. She wanted to say that her entire being cried out, wanted to find a solution to this that didn’t involve her own demise, but a part of her knew that, if anything about what she understood about Remnant was true, that there _wasn’t_ a way out of this.

“I… I think I need to go sit down,” Ruby said, slipping out of Blake’s embrace. If there were cries of protest, sobs from Blake, or any indication that maybe she should stop and think about this, Ruby didn’t hear them. She remained silent as she moved away from her friends and family, wandering the halls of the Vault as if they would give her answers. There was a sort of tranquility, a comfort in knowing that she was at the end. On one hand, the healthy human mind didn’t wake up in the morning knowing that today was its last, but the knowledge that she _had_ to die in order to achieve peace on Remnant meant a lot more now than it ever did before.

Ruby found herself in a forgotten corner of the vault, one room in another in an endless series of side passages and forgotten spaces. Paintings hung in here, dusty from years of neglect and the perpetual loosening of the airtight seal in the vault’s design that allowed the sands of Vacuo to seep in and gather on surfaces. Here, the scenes depicted showed great leaders, brave warriors, and countless sights of Grimm doing what they always had. The paintings ranged from those created in Remnant’s earliest days – after people showed back up, of course – but also from the middle ages, during the Great Awakening, and even more modern examples from two or three decades ago. Statues were posed in here as well, standing stoically amongst the paintings. It made her wonder – was what she did written on stone, or in sand? If she did this, and by some happenstance run of misfortune, they failed, would anybody ever remember her? Would the name Ruby Rose be synonymous with somebody making the ultimate sacrifice, or forgotten like all the people who had come before her and were not so blessed to have silver eyes?

The Gods had gone quiet, she realized. They had not spoken to Ruby since Hazel loomed over her, balled fists and regretful contempt in his eyes. It made her wonder – how much of this mission was truly divine? Had she lost their blessing? Did she ever have it in the first place? Or was this like what Salem believed she once had, the firm belief that a higher divinity knew of and cared for her struggles in life? Was Ruby just making up excuses, trying to find logic in an increasingly illogical world? She wasn’t sure if she would like the answers.

As she stared at the paintings and statues, hoping to derive _some_ kind of meaning and comfort from them, Ruby heard somebody walking up to her. Their shoes echoed in the halls, before slowing down as they neared the room she was in. Weiss had come to her, seeking her out obviously.

“Hey,” Ruby said, her voice feeling scratchy and grating against her throat.

Weiss took a deep breath, slowly blinking. “Hi, Ruby.” She had her hands clasped in front of her, an odd sight considering most of her clothing was bloodstained, and her face twitched every time something touched a fresh wound. “I’m… well, I’m sure you’ve gathered that we’re all a bit shocked about what we just learned.”

“Well… yeah, maybe a little,” Ruby said, smiling as best she could. How could anyone keep an upbeat attitude when the ultimate destiny ordained for you is to be killed? “I’m… trying to figure some things out.”

“Like how to avoid it?” Weiss asked, softly smiling. “I hope you know that we all think we can get around this. I mean… we’ve always found _unconventional_ ways to attack our problems.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, I know. No offense, Weiss, but… I don’t think this is something that we can work our way around.”

Her friend’s smile faded, just as quickly as it had crept on her lips. Long ago, three years back when she had just met Weiss all the way in the plaza leading up to Beacon, Ruby had looked at this same face and thought she had met the most stuck-up, snobbish, condescending person in the entire world. But now, she had seen Weiss at her worst, at the lowest, at her highest, practically at every spectrum of human emotion and condition plausible. Ruby knew that now when Weiss frowned, it wasn’t because she hated anybody. “I think we can,” Weiss said, shrugging. “I mean… we _have_ to think that, right? You always said to keep moving forward.”

The words hit Ruby like a truck. It was a mantra she had often repeated, _especially_ after Jaune died. “Yeah. I… _had_ to live by that, really. I mean, if I didn’t, I think I’d just give up.”

Weiss nodded, looking away for a moment. She stared at one of the statues, pretending that something about it was incredibly interesting. “If we can’t figure a way around this,” she said, speaking quietly even though Ruby was fairly sure nobody else was even nearby, “there’s something I think I should tell you.”

“What’s that?”

She looked back at Ruby, sadness and muted joy in her eyes. “You’re an excellent team leader. I don’t think I could have done it all better myself. And… well, if we want to be honest about _everything…_ you’re pretty cute, too. But I think Blake has that part handled.”

“Weiss, are you admitting you’re _attracted_ to me?” Ruby asked, smirking.

“I _was,_” Weiss replied, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as her face turned red. “I’m going to tell Yang the same thing, because honestly, all of you are beautiful women. It’s not my fault. Just… for all of our sakes, Ruby, _please_ consider at least trying with us to find another solution.”

Ruby nodded again, the laughter and levity melting away. “Okay,” Ruby said. “I’ll think about it.”

Nodding, Weiss turned and left, with Ruby once again alone. This room would not be able to tell her anything, either literally or metaphorically. She left the room as well, heading out to the winding, twisting pathways once more. The scars of the battle were nearly everywhere – the remains of Dust cartridges sent into walls, spent casings on the floor, and impacts from bladed weapons marking every possible surface from misses – and each marred brick reminded her of how far they had really come. Three years ago, Ruby wouldn’t have even considered the possibility that she was in a war for her very life, fighting against somebody like Salem for ancient Relics of immeasurable power. And yet, here she was, touring what very well might one day be a famous battlefield.

She found herself now in another room of the vault, this one lined with books. Blake would love this. Or, at least, she _would_ if they weren’t all in such a sad state. It seemed the same conditions that afflicted the paintings spread to this library, with sand covering ancient tomes and hardbacked books losing their covers. No doubt a lot of these books had seen better days. Ruby liked to believe that people once came here to study and try to learn the secrets of the world, or at least understand the confusing reality a little bit better.

“I thought I might find you in here,” Pyrrha said, still clutching her broken arm. How hadn’t she heard Pyrrha walking towards her? Maybe her own thoughts had overwhelmed her senses for a moment.

“Hey, Pyrrha,” Ruby said, sighing. “How’s your arm?”

Pyrrha looked down on the crippled limb, wincing in pain. “I’ll survive,” she said, shrugging. “It’s… not nearly as bad as that poison.”

Ruby nodded, looking down. Tyrian had terrorized them on that day. How cruel would it have been, Ruby often wondered, if Pyrrha had passed so soon after she lost Jaune? How would _that_ have affected their journey?

“Ruby, you… know that we care about you, right?”

She nodded, feeling her shoulders droop. Turning to Pyrrha, she felt incredibly heavy, like every part of her body was being weighed down with the invisible burden of the purpose that had been levied upon her. “I know you guys do. I just… I’m second-guessing myself. I don’t know how anyone can do this.”

“Well, we don’t have to. I know Weiss said something similar to you, and… she has a point, Ruby. We’ve been told before that the world works this way, or that way, and we always find some method to overcome that or change our fates.”

Ruby looked at her friend, hearing the words but not quite believing it. “How did Jaune do it?” she asked, point-blank. “How was he able to lead you guys so well? How come he never second-guessed himself?”

Pyrrha laughed, her giggling muted as she slammed her eyes shut and winced in pain. “We lived next to Jaune’s bed for a year. Believe me, he had doubts. I can’t tell you how many conversations he had with his pillow about whether he was doing the right thing or not. And not just with the team, he worried a lot about if he was doing right by you as well, Ruby.”

“Then how did he make it look so easy?” Ruby asked.

“I don’t know. I think Jaune was a natural leader, but he didn’t really know it yet. I think you know you’re a natural leader, Ruby, and the fact that you’re taking the time to think about all this shows me you understand that.”

She sighed again, shaking her head. Ruby had thought that touring this vault alone would have given her insight, or at the bare minimum put her at peace with the entire ordeal. Wandering around here, waxing poetic about life and love lost, however, had just made the entire scenario just that more complicated. On one hand, she couldn’t bear to reject a chance to end the war that they had all been fighting. But on the other… did it truly have to be as final as this?

“We all miss him, you know,” Pyrrha said out of the blue. “I know I say it a lot, but… well, I think if he was here, right now? He’d be telling you the same thing I am.”

“What’s that?”

“No matter what we say, whatever we want to plead with the Gods for,” Pyrrha explained, readjusting her grip on her arm, “there’s only one person’s choice that determines it all. And that choice is _yours._ We can’t decide what to do for you, it’s just you. So… even if it hurts us, we have to respect it. We can try to get you to consider our views, but…”

Ruby sighed, shaking her head. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“None of us do,” Pyrrha said. “But it has to be. You heard what Jinn said, and… well, we don’t have a fourth question to ask her.”

She nodded, avoiding Pyrrha’s gaze. She didn’t want to face her, or anyone else for that matter, right now. Pyrrha was right, so horribly and inconveniently right. In the end, the only person whose decision mattered was Ruby’s. She had thought that maybe if she thought about it a little, maybe another solution would present itself. But this was the power of the Relics themselves in play here. How could she ever hope to dispute the cold, indifferent logic and facts that they presented? How could Ruby ever believe that she could contradict the physical will of the gifts the Gods had bestowed upon them? “You’re right,” Ruby said. “We… should go back. I think we have to just get this over with.”

Pyrrha nodded, and together the two headed back to the main room. There stood her friends, family, and Blake, all staring expectantly at her with mingled fear and anxiety. No doubt they looked to her, expecting Ruby to declare she had come up with a new, grand idea to get around this latest obstacle. The truth was that there _was_ no getting around this. Ruby sighed, dreading the announcement she had to make.

“Well… we have to kill me,” Ruby declared, as simply as she possibly could. What other words could be said to get the message across?

Like she expected, Blake immediately broke down, collapsing on the floor in a pile of sobs. “No, no, no, no! There has to be another way! Come on, you don’t seriously think that, Ruby!”

Ruby swallowed, trying to force down the sadness she had for not just herself, but for every one of her friends that would mourn her afterwards. She sniffled, her breath shaky as she picked Blake up, holding her tight as she shook with each sob. “I’m so sorry, Blake,” Ruby said. “I wish we had longer together, I really do.”

Blake’s amber eyes were consumed by the tears as she looked at Ruby, pain unlike anything Ruby had ever seen written on it. “Ruby, please,” she muttered, kissing her as if that would help anything. “Please don’t go. I can’t. I can’t, baby. I love you too much to let you go.”

“I know,” Ruby said, her throat becoming scratchy as she began to cry herself. Each blink just enshrouded her eyes with a hazy outlook, and out of her peripheral vision – what little remained of it, anyway – she could see and hear her friends and family crying alongside them. “I know, Blake, I’m so sorry. I have to, you know I do.”

Yang sobbed, sniffing loudly and clearing her throat. “Okay, so… how are we doing this?” Her voice was weak, under threat of breaking at any second. “Like, do we… _fuck,_ what do we _do?”_

“I want you to do it, Yang,” Ruby said, only prompting another heaving sob from Blake that shook her to the core. “We started this together, we’ll end it together.”

Yang stared at her sister, clear lines drawn on her face from where the tears had came down. Her lilac eyes darted between Ruby’s own, mouth agape in clear shock. “I… well, if… that’s what you want.”

Ruby nodded solemnly. She turned her head back to Blake, who had no longer wanted to even open her eyes. Her mouth was so twisted in pain, with so many tears on her face that it almost shimmered. Blake sobbed again, before opening her eyes once more. The look they exchanged with one another was one of pure love, as they touched foreheads one last time. “I love you,” Ruby said quietly. “Always and forever.”

“I love you too,” Blake said, pulling her head back and kissing her again. She broke it off far too quickly, coming right back in. Ruby made sure to savor these final kisses, as they were surely to be the last ones she’d ever have. “I love you, Ruby. God, I love you so much.”

Blake slowly pulled away again, sobbing once more as Weiss and Nora practically caught her, holding her tightly. Yang steeled herself, swallowing hard and shaking her head like sloughing off anxiety. Clearing her throat, Ruby wiped the tears from her eyes. This was it. No turning back now. “Okay, Yang. Whenever you’re ready.”

She watched Yang nod once, looking down at her hands. She cocked one hand back as a pause filled the room. Everybody was watching, waiting for the final violent blow that would, once and for all, end this war. After all they had done, all they had lost, this was how it was to be. Ruby watched Yang blink once, then twice. She slammed her eyes shut, lowering the fist and wrapping Ruby in a hug. “I can’t do this,” she said, sobbing. “I can’t kill you, Ruby. There _has_ to be another way.”

“I’m sorry, you know there isn’t,” Ruby said. Had her throat always been this sore and scratchy?

In a blink, Zoya had moved between them, separating them with her rifle in hand. Yang, understandably, was outraged at the turn of events. “What the fuck?!” she yelled. “Come on, Zoya! We’re not fucking killing Ruby!”

“Four _years,_” Zoya declared, straightening her shoulders. “That’s how long it’s been since Misha and Koyla were killed by Albina Fominchina. That’s when everything I knew was destroyed. I watched my friends die in front of me. Do you want to give everyone here that memory?”

“I…” Ruby muttered. “Well, _no,_ of course not, but there’s no other way!”

Zoya shook her head, staring at her with the same intense silver eyes that had faced her in the Vytal Tournament. “You don’t believe that. You can lie to your friends, to your Gods, but you can’t lie to me, Ruby. You know more than anyone that there’s always a choice. I’ve watched friend after friend die because of this war, and I will _not_ watch another friend of mine die! You tell me you think you have no choice but to die? If you honestly believe that? Then I’ll kill you myself, but if you have even a _little_ bit of doubt, then I’ll know.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ruby asked, furrowing her brow. “You heard Jinn! You saw the same things we all did! Why do you think you can change my fate?”

“Because I have nothing else to live for! I told you, I told your sister, I would follow you to the deepest of pits because _you’re_ all my comrades now, and I refuse to leave my comrades behind for anything! So, tell me once more Ruby, do you honestly, with all your heart, think that your fate is to die?”

As if to punctuate her point, Zoya took her rifle into her hands, racking the bolt and loading a fresh cartridge. She assumed her familiar shooting stance, the rifle’s barrel pointed right at Ruby’s face. With her Aura this low, surely any shot would immediately kill her. Ruby went to speak, but found the words lodged in her throat.

“What _choice_ do I have?” Ruby asked, shaking her head. “This was never my dream. This was always Ozpin’s goal. If I have to save the world by following his plan, then I don’t see any other option. This decision you’re talking about… it was made for me long ago.” Zoya stared at her, finger just barely hovering over the trigger, until she lowered her rifle, not even taking her eyes off Ruby for a second.

With as much speed as Zoya used working her rifle’s bolt, she grabbed the Relic of Creation. A grand flourish later, and the staff began to glow blue. Despite the questions that were now arising from the team, a bright light enveloped them. Ruby shielded her eyes, wondering if this is what it felt like to be on the receiving end of her power. An ethereal scream, that Ruby soon realized was coming from Zoya, filled the room, and when the light faded down to blue once more she lowered her arm. Zoya was still there, holding her rifle and the Relic with arms that shook heavily, but at her feet was a golden apple, exactly like the Relic of Choice that they had seen in Jinn’s vision.

“What did you do?” Gabriel asked.

“I made a copy of the Relic,” Zoya proclaimed. “We have all the Relics now. Are we going to end this war, or what?”

Oscar blinked rapidly, his eyes wide as he stepped forward. “I… well, this is certainly a _novel_ way of solving this problem, but…”

“Let’s do it,” Yang said. “Let’s use the Relics to bring the Gods back.”

* * *

Ruby didn’t remember the ritual they had used to summon the Gods back to Remnant. She scarcely even remembered anything after Yang had said “let’s do it” and the murmurs of agreement. All she knew, as she opened her eyes and stared at the Gods of Light and Darkness standing before her, hovering above the cracked stone floor with their arms folded, was that she was somehow still alive. It looked like she never really needed to die after all, since this had managed to work.

“It appears We have been summoned, Brother,” the God of Light said, surveying the scene in front of them.

“It appears so. The humans have called upon us for Judgment.”

The God of Light, if he had a face, would surely have smirked. “Not just any humans. _These_ humans. Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Zoya Zvaigzne, Gabriel Blackpool… you have all done well, to gather the Relics.”

“Ah, but not just them,” the God of Darkness noted. “Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren, Nora Valkyrie, Roy Braunschweig, Blake Belladonna, Weiss Schnee… oh, and Ozma of Dubrochow. What a pleasant surprise.”

The Gods touched down, their auras emanating and filling the room with equal amounts light and darkness. Ruby felt as if everything in her was being uplifted, raised to new heights that she could barely comprehend. They looked at the vault, before the God of Light drew His hand and cast a strange veil in front of Him, showing Him the world.

“Hmm,” He said, rubbing His chin. “There is much disquiet in the world.”

“My creations have run unchecked,” the God of Darkness said. “Salem of Antocourt has gained the power to conjure and control them for her own purposes. Disgraceful.”

Yang took a step forward, causing the Gods to look down on her. “Look, we’ve done what we can. Salem’s trying to destroy Remnant, just like she always has. We’re asking for you to help us, because we can’t destroy her on our own.”

The Gods looked at her strangely, as if they were contemplating her request. No doubt they were – after all, Yang was not the first human to ask things of them. “This world sees conflict daily,” the God of Darkness said, rewinding time to watch the wars that humanity wracked themselves with. “The tools I have given your kind have not been used wisely.”

“But there is also great good, Brother,” the God of Light pointed out. “These humans have collected themselves from all over the world – look at them, they have all sorts of backgrounds and motivations, but they all pledged their support for their leader.”

The God of Darkness nodded, looking right at Ruby. “Yes, the one who was married to the Relic. A rather clever, if particularly cruel fate, Ozma of Dubrochow. And equally clever is Zoya Zvaigzne’s solution to it. Very well done, indeed.”

“Please,” Weiss asked, kneeling before them and unable to stand up to their great auras. “We’ve done so much. Do we need to suffer any longer?”

The Gods looked down on Weiss as well, before turning to look at one another. They deliberated with one another in a strange language that was incomprehensible to Ruby. It sounded like a series of clicks and trills, certainly not any language that she recognized as human. Their debate was not very animated, and it didn’t seem to take them long to come to a consensus. The Gods both looked out once more at the world through the veil, before closing it forever. Once again, they folded their arms, taking a look at each one of them in turn.

“This world has not progressed much since We blessed it with Our presence,” the God of Light said.

“But, much of this conflict and divisiveness has been caused by Salem of Antocourt and Ozma of Dubrochow,” the God of Darkness concluded.

“I believe I speak for myself and my Brother when I say that We were mistaken to have cast Salem to this world forever, just as We were mistaken to pit Ozma against her.”

The God of Darkness looked over at His brother, nodding solemnly. “It is clear to Us. Humanity’s crimes are not the fault of humanity’s. There are issues, but We will pledge Ourselves to fixing this world, rather than abandoning it once more and destroying it with fire and brimstone.” The Gods raised one hand each, and with a snap of their mighty fingers, a massive wave crossed the world. Ruby was, once again, knocked out as it passed over her.

* * *

She woke up with a start, clutching her chest as if she was short of breath. Ruby looked around – she was still in the Vacuo vault, and all around her were her friends, teammates, even Blake, who immediately scrambled to her feet and tackled her. They shakily rose up, each one wondering what had changed. The Relics were gone, that much was sure, but what else had happened?

“Wait,” Roy said, pushing on his knee to stand up. “Where’s Oscar?”

Ruby scanned again. Oscar was simply _gone._ It didn’t much make sense.

_We have removed Ozma of Dubrochow and Salem of Antocourt forever, as well as Salem’s creations,_ the Gods said to her. Judging by the intense reactions of everyone else, this same message was being sent to them as well. Ruby watched them dart their heads around, trying to figure out where the voices were coming from. _You are the only ones who know of their actions and past. Remnant shall know peace from this day._

With that, the voices faded away. Ruby stood up, clutching Blake close. “So… that’s it, then?” Ruby asked. She took even more details in. There was scarcely a sign that there had been a battle here. The bodies were gone, and even the blood was missing. Ruby realized that Pyrrha’s arm was fixed, and the bruises and blood that dotted everybody else had been removed. Her own body didn’t even ache, like she had been blessed with divine strength and healing.

“I think so,” Gabriel said. “Sounds to me like we saved the world, gang.”

“So… if there’s no more Grimm,” Yang asked, blinking rapidly, “then what do we do now?”

Immediately, all eyes turned to Ruby. What _to_ do? An entire laundry list ran through Ruby’s mind. Go home. Mourn Uncle Qrow. Live her life with Blake. Go on all the adventures that Jaune had ever promised, but could never deliver on. Finally take a break, for once in her life, and sleep for as long as the world would ever allow. “I… don’t really know,” Ruby admitted. “There’s a lot we _can_ do, you know?”

“Well, hell, if we saved the world, then why are we all just standing here?” Roy asked, shrugging. “We can do _anything!_”

Pyrrha nodded, smiling. “We don’t have to fight anymore. Turn our swords into plows, as they say.”

“Okay, I draw the line at that,” Roy said. “I ain’t becoming a farmer.”

“Well, whatever it is,” Zoya said, picking up her rifle and nodding sharply to Ruby, “I’ll follow you in taking the next step.”

Ruby laughed, turning to Blake and holding her tightly. The brief talk had confirmed it. “I think it’s best we all just go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a very long story comes to an end. In no particular order;
> 
> Thank you to Mo1 and Cold for putting up with me talking about the operating principles of various firearms in far too much detail and listening to me blather on about all sorts of bizarre things, as well as generally helping me work through plot issues with little to no context.  
Thank you to Coyote and Tiny for helping me make things read better, as well as helping me make characters sound better.  
Thank you to Skiren and Cold for being regular commenters. I always looked forward to seeing comments from y'all pop up in my inbox.  
Thank you in general to Coyote, Tiny, Mo1, Cold, Plat, and anyone else I may have forgotten for generally being there for me when it felt like my writing wasn't good enough and this entire fic was a mistake.
> 
> Finally, thank you (yes, YOU, the one reading this fanfiction) for staying for 157k~ words, my absurd (and sometimes lackluster) worldbuilding, suffering through the pain I've inflicted on these characters, and the ships I've intentionally broken. Thank you for reading. Thank you for leaving a kudos. Thank you for bookmarking. Thank you for commenting. I can't stress enough how happy I am that this is one of my most popular fics, and I hope that success continues.


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